Henry's Problem
by FaerieBreath
Summary: The thoughts and desires of King Henry seem to be ever changing, ever roaming. Was there anything, anyone that could tame them? What would Queen Catherine think and how would she respond? What of the children? Rated T but nothing graphic as usual. **And the end of this journey has arrived. Thank you to all who have joined with me in this process and stuck with me till the end.**
1. The Heat of the Moment

Disclaimer: I neither own Reign, nor profit from this story.

"Catherine…Catherine!"

Rolling her eyes, Catherine sat back in her desk chair and just waited for Henry to find where she was.

She didn't have to wait long as a few moments later he barged into the room and made it over to her in a few quick strides.

"Catherine, we need to talk," he said, oddly polite in his request despite his tone.

"Yes Henry, I heard you loudly and clearly from all the way down the hall, now what has you so upset husband."

"You."

"Yes I gathered that as well, could you be more specific?"

Turning around he began gesticulating, though it did not seem to make any more sense than what he was saying…or rather trying to say.

"I," he began before turning back around, "you." he continued…

"Yes Henry, you and I, the two of us. Are we all cleared up now?" She concluded, knowing that this could antagonize him further, but if she was just lucky enough in might antagonize him right out the door.

Letting out a frustrated sigh he made quick work of rounding her desk and into her personal space. Realizing his intended destination just a little too late she was not able to get up in time before he shoved her chair backward, grabbed her first by the hands and then the waist, and hoisted her out of her chair and onto the desk. Not a moment later he had cupped her face in his hands and began assaulting her lips with more passion than she had felt from her since their early years.

After several moments she regained her senses suddenly and tried to push him away, but he only hugged her arms back down to her side, one hand on her lower back and one cradling her head as he began to lower her down to the desk.

With no other conceivable way to fight him off she brought her knee upward in a swift and sure motion and knocked some sense back into him.

Unfortunately his initial reaction was to bite down on her tongue and drop her unceremoniously onto he desk but he did release her. His head however, was now rested on her abdomen and they were both left panting in the wake of the kiss.

"Henry," she ground out, "get off of me!"

Still panting he moved just to the left and rested his head on her desk before raising his finger to signal that he still needed a moment before thinking or speaking would be an option.

Unfortunately when he hand lowered it landed on her hip and after a moment he began running his thumb over the barely protruding crest of the bone.

He never had been very good at keeping his hands to himself.

She eventually sat up and gave Henry a gentle shove to sit back in the chair from which she was recently so rudely removed.

By the time he was finally was able to look at her again she had regained her breath and her composure. She was sitting with her arms across her chest, her knees crossed and an eyebrow raised, waiting for him to explain his actions.

Standing once more her moved back over to her, but instead of assaulting her, he simply uncrossed her arms and held her hands.

"Catherine, I love you."

She huffed and chuckled briefly before looking away.

"And you love me," he continued

"Yes well, words spoken in the heat of passion are hardly meant to be taken out of context," she said keeping her eyes well trained on the wall off to their side.

"And yet in all my years of knowing you, I've never heard you speak a lie during out moments of passion" he continued dropping one of her hands to turn her face back to his with a finger on her chin, "at least not by the time we get to…."

"And how do you know that I wasn't just saying what you wanted to hear?"

Internally chuckling at her insistence at denying her own words. "Because Catherine," he continued, "I know you, and I know that though the moments are few and far between, there are some moments when you cannot lie to me…I recognized it then and it thrills me even now."

Choosing to harden her heart to his words she smiled, "And you can think what you want husband, but thanks to our many mistakes over the years, this marriage never really had a chance.

"Perhaps in the past, but Catherine I cannot get you out of my mind!"

"Always the charmer with that tongue of yours Henry."

"No, Catherine…" sensing that his words would be of little other use he moved the hand he still clasped toward himself and brought it further downward.

Growing more annoyed by the moment she yanked her hand back before answering "Henry this is not a game, and I am not interested."

"But I am," he continued, silencing her so that he could continue. "and for once it would seem that my heart has overtaken my usual fleshly desires."

Rolling her eyes at the nonsense she could hear coming down the channel, Catherine sighed and tried to speak again, only to have him release her hand and place his finger on her lips to silence her.

"During my moments of…need…I can only seem to conjure images of you. No matter the time of day, the task at hand, or the company I keep. I cannot, I have not been able to…"

"Sign the contract? Find absolution? Satisfy your basal impulses?"

"Because all I can think of is you! The moment I begin to enjoy myself, my mind returns to your enchanting hazel eyes or your impossibly delicate skin, I lose…momentum."

"I'm flattered," she replied sarcastically.

Huffing and dropping both arms to his side Henry looked down before continuing.

"I realize this is not particularly romantic, but…"

"No Henry, this goes so far beyond that it's degrading."

She stood so that even if she still had to look up at him, at least her legs were no longer dangling mid-air.

"You are asking me to let you bed me so that you can get me out of your system and move on with your gambit of mistresses. Like a task that you have to complete before you get to move onto your fun. But I am a person Henry, a human being, and your wife. Even your playthings are treated better than this! You woo them and entice them, before bedding them but you haven't even given me the curtsy of consideration, merely propositioned me like a common working girl and expect me to just swoon over your vulgar demands. I won't have it Henry!"

His head had dropped lower and lower as she had picked apart his request until he recognized it for the insensitive degradation that it was.

"However," she paused at this and waited for his eyes to reach hers," I will heed your request under one condition."

His eyes widened when he realized she might actually be considering this, "Catherine I…"

"No, don't speak. Not until you have heard my terms. By all accounts you can demand this anyway, so I only ask that since you did so in such a crude and heartless way that you consider me offer, it really is not all that terrible a request."

Pausing a moment to give weight to his answer he replied, "I will listen."

"You may bed me as you like, if you spend at least an hour a day with the children…our children whom you so seem to so easily dismiss. It may be too late for us to be anything more than we are, but Henry and Charles in particular are young enough that you can truly be a father to them, it is not too late. Even Claude and Francis would not object to having you look at them as more than just heirs and political pawns. However," she paused a moment so that she knew he would hear her, "discussing politics and matters of the kingdom do not count as "spending time" unless they are in the midst of a time otherwise specifically set aside for them."

She placed a hand gently on his chest she continued. "In the wake of our children's happiness, my feelings and our history are irrelevant. I hope you can see this and will consider spending more time with them, regardless. Trust me, they are worth it."

Reaching up on her tiptoes she gently kissed his cheek before moving around him and gliding her way to the door. When she was half way there she threw back over her shoulder, "and if you want anything at all to happen tonight you will come down to see the children to help me tuck them into bed."

Henry could only watch his wife's retreating form as she made her way out through the various doors of her chambers until she was out of sight entirely.

Gone was the aggravated, vengeful, plotting Black Queen as she was known by those who had been on the receiving end of one of her brilliant plans to stymie whatever they had plotted against her. Gone still was the Queen of France, the stunning beauty that bewitched men with but a single laugh and transfixed them with her whit and charm.

In their place was his wife, a woman of strength and of pride, of flesh and of bone. A woman that could be sure and insecure all in the span of a breath, and one that knew how to use her own capabilities to their limit.

Memorized as her hips were currently telling a story entirely their own became lost in the retreating presence of his wife.

It was a sight to behold, and one which he was certain he would never become immune.


	2. Lady & the Tramp

Disclaimer: I neither own Reign, nor profit from this story.

Trying to process what he had just witnessed, the King just stood for a moment, not entirely certain he had heard his wife correctly.

For her to willing give herself to him, all he had to do was spend time with his own children. For the first time in the history of their marriage she had not mentioned his mistresses or how the two of them never seemed to last more than a few moments without passing snide remarks back and forth. There was no jockeying for power or trying to figure out if the other was being truthful or manipulative.

In fact he had not seen his wife so thoroughly genuine in a long time, at least when it came to him.

Grinning from ear to ear, he made his way out of her rooms and started down to the nurseries when the thought occurred to him. Just because this had not begun as a romantic or even a particularly congenial gesture, there was no reason he couldn't make up for lost time and give her the attention she deserved.

Pausing in his present considerations, he thought back to all the times she had taken him back into her life and could not believe how many times he'd let this woman slip through his fingers.

He was an idiot.

But there was no sense in dwelling on that now. He called two of the guards over and sent them to relay a message to the kitchens. He ordered that a selection of pastries, some wine, and the very best chocolates the kitchen had be sent up the Queen's chambers.

He wasn't sure how long they'd be so he didn't want order anything hot. He hoped that this would at least begin to make up for his insensitivity before and make tonight's interlude feel less like a chore for her. Grinning, he made his way down to the nurseries with a spring in his step, pleased with himself and hopeful that the evening should turn out better than it started.

He then sent another off to find one of Catherine's ladies and adorn the room with sufficient lighting for what he had in mind before heading directly down to the nurseries.

As he made his way down his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of singing echoing through the halls.

One of the many details he had leaned about his wife over the years was that she had a beautiful voice. From the little time he had spent with his children, especially when they were young, he knew that she made a point of singing them to sleep. On several occasions he had been a witness to this ritual, and it would appear that he would again have that opportunity tonight.

He moved more carefully as he approached the room, not wanting to disrupt the atmosphere her voice and presence had created. Once he reached the entry, he simply leaned against the door frame and observed the sight in front of him.

Catherine was sitting on the edge of Charles's bed and holding little Henry in her lap. Henry was getting so big that he would soon be spilling out of his current resting spot, but for the moment he was content to be tucked into his mother's embrace as the soft melody lulled them to sleep.

As little Henry began to drift, the King could see him leaning more heavily on Catherine. Eventually he could see the strain it was putting on her and decided to intervene. He made his way into the room and around Catherine's side so that she could see him before he tried to move the child.

She glanced behind her to acknowledging his presence but continuing in her song. Eventually she shifted little Henry as he dropped farther and farther into sleep and Henry took that as his cue. Rising from the spot he had taken on little Henry's bed he turned down the covers, then moved over to her and reached his arms out indicating his intentions. She nodded her head and raised the child slightly so that Henry could gather his son in his arms and move him over to his own bed. Little Henry started to come back to consciousness, but not enough to realize that the arms that held him were no longer those of his mother.

By the time he had settled little Henry, Catherine finished her song and was speaking softly to Charles who was still partially awake. Henry joined her and bid his other son goodnight, gaining a greater realization as to just how neglectful he had become when his son was not only surprised that he was there, but questioned if he would return.

It cut to his heart.

No matter what happened with Catherine, he would try and make a point of seeing his children more often…they certainly deserved it.

Once Catherine had checked on little Henry she turned to face him. They were left standing between the beds of the boys and for a moment they both froze. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it as he couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't make him sound like he just wanted to rush upstairs and…well

Raising her finger to her lips Catherine reminded him that they should wait to talk until they were outside of the room and led the way into the corridor. But once they got there, he still could not think what to say…

As they turned to face each other again, Catherine apparently got tired of waiting for him to give her any idea of what he wanted and inquired, "Well Henry and I to appear in your chambers or are you bedding me in my own tonight?"

The crassness of her question reminded him of what a dunst he had been and felt a new wave of shame wash over him.

"Catherine, I…" he was about to cancel and when he remembered the preparation he had set into place. Deciding that he could at least try and smooth things over a bit he simply replied, "yours."

She nodded and with her mouth fixed in a straight line and turned to make her way briskly back to her rooms leaving Henry in her wake.

He sighed audibly realizing how annoyed she was. Despite her acquiescence, he knew that a passive Catherine did not guarantee a pleasant Catherine. Hopefully his gifts would be seen as the goodwill offering they were intended.

He could always just not show up. Send word that she should enjoy the treats and have the evening for herself. Then again, she could just as well get annoyed by that and go on about his constant state of indecision. Shaking his head, he marveled at how easily his wife always managed to tie him in knots and complicate his life, even when it was her request that had initiated their encounters.

Having come up with no solutions that seemed any better than the original plan he decided to simply make his way up and see what would happen.

As he made to enter her rooms he instructed her guards that no one should interrupt them except for one the children or their nannies, and that none of the children should enter her chambers unattended.

That taken care of he made his way through the door, hoping that tonight would not be a complete disaster.


	3. The Art of Mismatching

Disclaimer: I neither own Reign, nor profit from this story.

She was not going to cry, she was not going to cry, she was not…going…to cry.

Closing her eyes to try and wish away the tears that threatened she worked to control her breathing as she made her way back to her rooms and awaited Henry's instructions.

She would not break down in front of everyone she passed, and knew that Henry would not be far behind so she would have no time even once surrounded by the walls of her own room. Not even acknowledging the guards as she breezed through the doors, Catherine walked directly over to the window to try and convey the serenity of the gardens onto her own scattered emotions. Pressing her hand against the cool glass she willed herself to calm down and focus on the view before her.

Between his outrageous demands and then having him join her during such a tender moment with the boys she couldn't handle it. She honestly expected him to ignore her and just show up again demanding her to do her duty as his wife. Biting her lip to steady her nerves she tried to decide if she was expected to change into her nightwear.

This deal that they had made was so unfeeling that it felt like her wedding night all over again…all duty and no affection.

Finally glancing around she noticed that her room had acquired some additions since she left to see the children. Candles were flickering to give the room gentle glow, some light desserts and what she assumed was wine, had been brought in and set out at a small table near her couch.

Just then Henry walked in looking somewhat uncertain.

"I had some refreshments set out if you would like. I wasn't sure what you might want so I just had the kitchen set out a selection…"

Nodding to in acknowledgement before answering, "Thank you Henry, I appreciate the gesture."

As Catherine moved toward him from the window he tried to read her expression. She clearly had no intention of refusing him, but seemed to have lost her fire…an otherwise constant that radiated from the very fibers of her being.

She sat down and looked up at him finally speaking with more than just a few words at a time, "Would you like anything Henry? This is far too much for me alone."

"No…yes…please allow me," he replied almost jumping toward the table in his haste to try and please her.

As he began to put a plate together she realized that he must have been feeling nervous, or at the very least beholden to her. "Henry, my acceptance of our deal was only based on your time spent with the children. You do not need to put forth any further effort. I know we past that point a long time ago, you need feel no obligations to do so. Now if you would tell me where you would like me or what you would like me to do we can begin to take care of your issue."

Henry was not used to her acting so submissive and it took him aback. With his words failing him he decided to try and let his actions speak for him. He moved closer to her and offered his hands so that he could draw her to standing. He then took her face in his hands tilting it down before drawing her closer to him and placing a kiss at the crown of her head. Moving his hands down to her upper arms and around her back, he embraced her gently, neither drawing her near nor pushing her away.

When his movements came to a stop she brought her hands up to circle his waist and placed her forehead on his chest, her neck angled so that she was still free to breath.

"Henry, what do you want?"

"I want to be less of an idiot."

Huffing, Catherine replied, "Unfortunately I have no control over that, would you like to try and make a request that I can help yo with? Looking up at the last minute she tried to determine his intentions from his face as he was clearly at a loss for words and apparently had lost his urgency to bed her as well.

Staring up into puppy dog eyes she sighed, "Well as nice as this is, we cannot stand here all night. Why don't you call for someone to bring your sleepwear and you can stay until you make up your mind as to what you do want," suddenly becoming uncertain of whether her invitation would be welcome she added on," or at least for as long as you wish to stay."

Releasing her from his grasp and reaching behind him to retrieve her hands, he stepped back bent down ever so slightly and brought her hands to his lips as a sign of acceptance. His wife always did seem to have the best plans.

"I will go myself to give you some privacy to do the same," he countered, stepping back even further as he dropped her hands and turned so quickly she was left standing there in shock for a moment before her hands dropped to her sides and she let out a breath she didn't realize she was even holding.

Shaking her head at her husband's indecisiveness she turned to her wardrobe and began going through what she would need to get ready for bed.

Halfway there she realized that he may not even be coming back…easily distracted as he was. Deciding that for the moment it was a moot point, and that she would simply have to be prepared for either eventuality, she began her evening preparations though at a slightly faster pace than normal as she preferred not to be caught in a more vulnerable position than she was already.

Once she had changed out of her daywear and retreated to the comfort of her favorite nightgown she sat down at her vanity and began to remove her jewelry and makeup. She felt vulnerable about Henry seeking her out like this as she would be facing him without her usual armor to shore herself up. First demanding, then repentant. The first she was used to, and she usually managed to work around it when she needed to. The second…not since the first time his affair with Diane had been revealed had she ever seen his this distraught over her feelings.

Lost in her thoughts and in the process of cleansing the kohl from her eyes she did not see Henry return and only felt his presence at the last moment as the heat of his body joined hers. He came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, silently observing her through the mirror.

Her hair was still fully pinned up and so she suggested that he make himself comfortable while she finished up, but as usual he decided not to take her suggestion. Working his fingers through her hair he instead began to remove the pins from her amber curls himself.

She finished first and at first wasn't quite sure what to do, then he began dropping the pins. Deciding that it would be prudent to help him rather than having to go hunting for them tomorrow, she lifted her hand to shoulder height so that he could deposit them into her waiting palm while continuing his work. He was so gentle that she began to get drowsy against her better judgement as her eyes started to close.

Eventually she heard Henry call out to her, "Catherine…"

Forcing herself to focus she opened her eyes to see him smiling gently at her through the mirror. She felt the desire to cry return and pressed her lips in a fine line to keep her wayward emotions in check.

Moving to her side, but not losing eye contact he offered his hand to help her rise. She responded in kind and allowed him to lead her to the bed. Once at the edge, Henry cupped her cheek and pulled her in for a kiss that started gently but quickly became heated for both of them.

She hated Henry for his inability to remain faithful, or even discreet with his many lady friends, but she hated herself more for allowing him back time and time again. For accepting him despite all he had done to her, to her heart and to her children. This time she was unable to stop the tears from flowing down her face as the evening as a whole began to catch up to her.

Eventually Henry realized that she was crying and he pulled away to find out what was wrong, still cupping her face in a sign of affection.

"Catherine I realize that I have been awful to you, but I thought you were, that we were…"

"Henry, it has been a long day and a long time since you were gentle with both me and the children. I am simply tired, but we can continue if you would like."

Pausing for once to consider his next words he answered her with a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Thank you my love, but as usual you have done a more than sufficient job of knocking the sense back into me. I think we should both retire and revisit this tomorrow." He placed one last kiss on her forehead and began to move away.

Assuming that he was running away from her tears she turned toward her bed and began to turn down the covers on her side resigned to spending the night alone with her pain…again.

Beginning to turn in to herself for comfort she was surprised when Henry showed up in her periphery. Instead of leaving like she had assumed her was instead making himself comfortable of the other side of the bed, mirroring her own actions.

It was even rarer for him to spend the night with her, and as his words seemed to indicate that they would not be recreating tonight, she had no idea why.

Looking up and noticing her confusion Henry interrupted her reverie, "I'm sorry darl…" correcting himself, "Catherine, have I left you on the wrong side?"

"No Henry, this night has just been full of surprises."

"Hopefully not all bad?," he questioned hesitantly.

"No Henry, not all bad," she confirmed.

Nodding he continued to climb into her bed and paused uncomfortably once he had pulled the covers up to cover his legs, sitting with a straight back apparently uncertain as to what he should do next.

"If I remember correctly husband, you prefer sleeping on your back? Why don't you just get comfortable and I will join you in the horizontal once I have finished my nightly routine."

Nodding and complying Henry found a comfortable position before he turned his head to watch her. After climbing into bed and propping her pillows at the correct angle, Catherine opened the drawer of her nightstand and pulled out several vials.

Most held creams which she applied to her face and neck. One held several pills and removing one she swallowed it with the aid of a glass of water that also rested on the small table.

At his questioning look she explained that several years ago she had resigned herself to asking Nostradamus to assist her with the dreams she still battled. He remembered her waking from these in her early years and thought that they had begun to fade.

He said as much and her response was simple, "They had, then you left."

Closing his eyes he was surprised when he felt her rearrange the pillows before resting her head on his chest, and her one arm across his abdomen.

Look up at him she asked, "is this alright?"

How this woman, confident in all other matters, could suddenly become so timid and questioning of her every action was still a mystery to him. Hoping that his actions would speak louder than his words he closed his eyes and gathered her to him with the arm currently pillowing her shoulder.

"Good night Caterina," were his final words to her before fully settling in himself.

As she too shifted he heard her tired emotion-laced voice respond in kind, muffled into his chest.

"Goodnight Henry."


	4. To Help, To Hold, To Hold Onto

Disclaimer: I neither own Reign, nor profit from this story.

Henry woke just as the sun was rising. Catherine was oddly still asleep, leaving Henry to think about all that had happened last night.

The fact that he was waking up in Catherine's bed was a minor miracle all on its own.

The fact that he had not needed to manipulate her to do so was another.

True this may have not exactly been her idea, but he hadn't had to twist her arm to gain himself entrance or spin some masterfully planned scheme for her to agree to…whatever it was that they were doing.

Admittedly it was probably not her preference, but when it came to him when was to ever?

Possibly even more surprising was that he had indeed enjoyed himself last night. First the banter with Catherine, then seeing the children and hearing her enchanting voice, then having more than a few moments alone with her as husband and wife, and finally retiring in together wrapped in each others arms.

It positively blew his mind.

He didn't even mind much that they hadn't actually accomplished what he originally came for. Willingly or not Catherine had accepted him back into her bed and into her arms and all he had done was ask, at least in a manner of speaking.

Now as they both lay there he began to realize how exhausted his wife clearly was, either from the events of the night or just in general.

Usually Catherine would have been awake by now, at least from what he could recall. She was always more of a morning person than he. Perhaps those pills she took last night had something to do with her continued slumber. He would have to ask her about that later.

As he was contemplating this Catherine turned in her sleep. Now resting on her stomach, one hand still remained on his abdomen though she was otherwise fully disengaged from him if only by a small span. Finally deciding on a course of action he gently began to slip out from under the covers and disengage from her light grasp. Once he had however, she moaned softly and began searching for his missing form. Warmed by the gesture he leaned back down and ghosted a kiss on her forehead murmuring for her to return to sleep and that he would seek her out later. She must have been barely awake as she quickly settled down again, her hand now rested on his pillow.

Knowing that he needed to leave now before he lost the will to, Henry donned his dressing gown and quietly made his way out of the room.

He figured they could both use some space and he did not want Catherine to feel as if he was becoming overbearing, especially considering the details of their arrangement. He would have enough of her at his disposal and acknowledged that this would definitely go more smoothly if he for once put some effort into showing her how much he both appreciated and loved her.

As a man he was a product of his time but he wasn't quite so dim that he did not understand that a woman liked to be wooed, even one as independent and self sufficient as Catherine.

He left a message with her ladies indicating that he would see her when Court convened and then later that evening.

Hopefully she would not be bothered by his early departure but it seemed like best course of action.

Watching her now, at ease and unencumbered he once again realized how much he missed this. She was indeed beautiful, and for a moment he could even convince himself that she was his sweet and innocent bride from years past.

That had not been the case for either of them in years, but for the moment the feeling remained.

Padding softly out of the room he decided to make this a better day for both of them.

If only she would let him.

-/-/-/-

Catherine woke alone and oddly disappointed. She rarely counted on Henry anymore, or cared much for what he did which was made this so unusual.

In her younger years she kept much closer track of what her husband did, but more recently she left that to her most trusted ladies. Within certain parameters they would inform her of his comings and goings, but unless he was getting himself into trouble or going to cause her more of a headache because of his actions or inactions she herself generally paid him no mind.

Stretching out like a cat she turned toward the windows in her room and considered what had happened to bring her to this particular point.

Even after all these years Henry could still surprise her, apparently.

His proposition last night while certainly offensive was not particularly unusual. As King he was used to getting his own way, especially when it came to women.

In her younger years she would have been far more compliant of his initial demands, but she was no longer the naive dew eyed Consort he married. While Henry held significant power over her she had become quite adept at out maneuvering him when needed.

Last night he had gone from being outrageously insensitive to thoughtful, almost caring.

When his attitude over the whole this had changed hope had begun to blossom in her chest. Though a short reprieve from the misery that saturated most of the rest of her life, it actually hurt more than any wound he might otherwise inflict. The power of hope was extraordinarily dangerous for her as it rarely resulted in anything except disappointment and heartbreak.

Why was she even spending all this time considering it?

She knew Henry's pattern. He would return to her all smiles and gushing words, do her a few favors or make some ridiculous gesture. She would again begin to open up to him, even if only in thought, and then he would tire of her and she would again be left alone.

Rolling onto her side she reminded herself of the reason she was truly allowing this. For the sake of the children she would do anything, even if it meant her own self-destruction.

Throwing off the covers she prepared to face the day. She also needed to inform her ladies to keep an eye on any time Henry spent with the children. She knew she still had some room to maneuver here given the right information as leverage. Her willingness to engage him would certainly depend on his following through on her request and the quality of the time he spent.

It might appear that he was the one with all the power here, but he clearly was not being as insistent on her unconditional obedience as he could have been.

The fact that he did not demand her compliance last night and left this morning without so much as a word was a testament to that. She might yet be able to turn this around in her favor and not just the children's if she was careful.

It would be good for her to test how easily he could detect her manipulations and how far he would allow her to go.

One thing about Henry was that when it came to personal relationships he was nearly an open book. When his crown came off his guard also lowered and he was far easier to both read and work around. For their many years of dissonance, all of their children were conceived in a moment of love.

Well perhaps that was a slight exaggeration in the case of Francis, but that could not have been helped.

Even if he did follow through in full faith with what he promised she could still have a bit of fun with her errant husband. It was another thing she admired about him, though it equally drove her near to insanity. How he could be so taken in by a matter in one moment and completely carefree the next was a mystery she had yet to come close to solving.

No, there was no one she knew better, for better or worse, and at least for the moment they were stuck with each other, whether Henry liked to remember that or not.

As she began to move around one of her ladies came in to relay the message left by Henry.

So he hadn't left on a whim or as a way to escape.

Well she would simply have to let this game of his play out and see where and how far he intended to take it. Goodness knows that man had spent a lifetime of spinning her in circles and tying her in all sorts of knots. But there was no one she knew better, no one indeed.


	5. The Sweet Smile of a Princess

Disclaimer: I neither own Reign, nor profit from this story.

Henry waited until just before dinnertime to make his presence known to the children. Finding the little ones occupying themselves in the nursery as they waited for their dinner to be ready he walked in not knowing what he would find.

He was relieved that Margot came up to him right away and pulled him into her game.

Soon Charles and little Henry came over as well, curious at what their father was doing there. Not long after all four of them were chatting and joining in with Margot, each assigned a different part in her play world and acting along accordingly.

Henry of course was playing the unicorn since he was the only one that could have carried any of them, and Margot was the princess riding her pet unicorn over the rainbow. While Charles and little Henry were playing two knights who were escorting princess Margot home on her journey. The four of them traveled all over the room facing giants, and witches, and occasionally battling the faerie folk until they made it to the rainbow gate to the land of Saguenay.

Henry was thoroughly enjoying himself and began as enthusiastic as the children but as time dragged on and his little princess's energy seemed only to increase while his ability to match her dwindled until he collapsed flat on the floor with her still on his back. Still in character the boys rushed over to him to try and help.

This was the scene that Catherine walked in on.

She had heard some of the commotion in the hall, but could not have imagined the full effect of what was transpiring if she tried. As soon as she had a chance to fully take in the scene her hand flew to her mouth to prevent the laughter that bubbled up in her throat to flow out freely.

It was just the five of them so in that way it didn't matter, but she didn't want to disturb the scene that was unfolding in front of her.

Eventually though small streams of her laughter began to slip out, and as soon as Henry heard her he rolled over taking Margot with him and Charles as well as he was on the wrong side and ended up caught in the confusion. Little Henry on the other hand as soon as he saw his mother ran over to her and dragged her into the malay. In the end they were all a tangled mess of limbs and laughter sprawled out on the floor of the nursery.

Henry's original plan for coming before dinner was so that he could make an excuse to leave if he ended up out of his depth.

Clearly this would not be necessary.

When dinner was called he helped Catherine herd then all in the right direction. The nannies came to escort the children themselves but Catherine dismissed them until further notice.

Dinner to was an exercise in fun, frivolity, and family bonding.

He certainly had played the idiot for too long.

The meal lasted an extraordinarily long amount of time and it was long past dark by the time they moved on from the small dining room.

The children wanted to put on a short play they had been working on for a while. Both parents were happy to oblige, or at least Catherine was until both she and Henry were dragged over to the children's chaise and unceremoniously seated nearly in each other's laps.

Despite herself Catherine blushed. When Henry playfully accused her of such she played it off as the results of all of the exertion, but she also didn't pull away as fast as she normally might have once they were settling into the chaise.

Not a bad evening at all.

-/-/-/-

Eventually the small brood moved back to the little royal's bed chamber where the young royals were instructed to get ready for bed.

This was done with some difficulty and a lot of laughter as both parents tried to help their young children but were not as practiced as their usual caregivers.

Catherine had assisted often enough but did not always remember where everything was kept. Henry hadn't the faintest idea of what to do so it took the boys nearly double the time to finish even though Margot's hair and clothing would normally have taken longer to disengage.

Not unlike last night the King and Queen tucked the young Royals into their beds, or rather they tried to. As soon as one would settle down another would get up and come over for one last hug or kiss, one after another after another so that it almost became a game.

Eventually Henry and Catherine were both trying to settle Margot in when Charles and little Henry snuck up behind them and jumped in her bed, which was in no way big enough for the five of them.

Catherine was about to scold them when little Henry made a quiet request.

"Mama, can we sleep with you and father tonight?"

Catherine's heart squeezed in her chest. How could she answer that?

It would prevent her from having to be alone with Henry, but last night aside it had been so long since they had shared quarters that it was still more awkward than she would have liked for opening up that up to the perusal of the children.

"That is entirely up to your mother dear ones, you will have to ask her."

Leave it to Henry to give her no say in what she wanted and leave her all the say where she would be seen as the villain if she refused.

"Of course my loves." She answered, tapping each one on the nose to confirm her sentiments.

"Will you three be able to entertain yourselves in my sitting room while your father and I prepare for bed?"

"Yes mama." Came the chorus of replies.

"Why don't you each choose one thing to play with and put on your dressing gowns, then we will all go up together.

Scampering each to their own areas the children all retrieved what their mother had suggested and rushed back to the bed where their parents still sat, already exhausted and wondering how they would work up the energy to corral their offspring even for just that little bit longer.

Hand in hand, except for Margot who insisted that Henry carry her, the five walked up to Catherine's room, sometimes in one straight line and others in single file, never letting go once.

Charles was in the front when they moved single file and at times tried to run causing Catherine to trip over her skirts more than once.

Fortunately for Henry there were streams of giggles from the time they left the nursery until they settled the children into Catherine's sitting room. If Catherine noticed the deeper tenor of his voice as he joined in with the merriment at her expense she never said.

Leaving Charles in charge and alerting the few ladies that remained of their plans the King and Queen went into her sleeping chamber alone. After just a few paces Catherine stopped and Henry along with her. "I told my ladies that you would likely be needed a change of nightwear for the foreseeable future, it should be set on the table next to where you slept last night. If you don't mind Henry I don't…I realize when the children are not here we will be…"

"I will change and then take my leave to be with the children until you are ready."

She softening at his words, at not needing to spell out her insecurities in terms that in any other case sounded cold and inhospitable.

"Thank you Henry," she replied.

Rising on her toes to kiss him on the cheek, she departed to her vanity so that they could both prepare for bed.

Mid way through removing the kohl from her eyes, Catherine looked up to see Henry retreating through the door to return to the children.

Hope began to bubble up again in her throat and she squelched it down with everything she had.

This was only temporary, she knew that too well.

If she allowed herself even the slightest possibility of what might be, what he might eventually do the fall on the other side would be that much harder to bear.

But this was Henry, and he had once again become caring and considerate.

Schooling her features and her heart she returned to the task at hand.

She would continue to be the dutiful wife and to accept his advances as she had agreed, but this notion that there might be more must stop now.

She already knew that she would be left licking her wounds when it was all over. All that was to be done now was to try to minimize the damage, if only she could.

The rest of the evening was nearly a blur.

The children needed no instruction on how to clamber up on their bed and were very directive as to how they should sleep.

With Margot in the middle and Charles and little Henry on either side of their parents they must have been quite the sight by the time they all settled down. At long last though the quiet breathing of the children created a symphony in the small space, and even Catherine seemed to have relaxed into at least a light slumber.

As Henry closed his eyes he couldn't help but think once again how lucky he was.


	6. The Innocence of Youth

Disclaimer: I neither own Reign, nor profit from this story.

Even with the sheer quantity of arms and legs somehow Henry had still managed to maneuver himself so that he was cushioning Catherine's head with his arm. True it was only his forearm, but with all of the chaos of the rest of the evening, the small detail was something that her mind utterly focused on, especially in the sentimental state which she currently found herself.

By the next morning Margot, who had been sleeping in between them, was sprawled half over Henry who as a result had moved to cradle Catherine more securely into his frame.

With one child draped over him, his arm around her waist, and each of the boys snuggled into their parents' other sides with various limbs above and below the covers…needless to say it took some minutes for everyone to disentangle from each other that morning.

Catherine woke first and was initially quite disoriented.

Mornings for her often brought fourth several mixed emotions depending on several factors. As a rule she was loathe to get up as her days were filled nearly morning until night with responsibilities, almost all of which were utterly exhausting. Nights were at times plagued with everything from unpleasant dreams to the most vivid of nightmares, and while she tried to find a modicum of peace in the moments before she turned in for the night those instances came about far more infrequently than she would have liked.

This morning brought the confusion of having so many bodies on all sides. Claude and Elisabeth had occasionally experienced a similar chaos when they were younger. Once in a while they would have evening gatherings with their ladies and or friends where they would ultimately fall asleep in one big pile on their respective beds.

She herself had never had such an experience given her somewhat unique childhood.

Being shunned by your extended family did not bode well for making friends that you didn't have to pay to be present, and her own aunt's resources were somewhat limited.

Thinking back though those were indeed simpler years, even carefree at times.

All things considered her aunt virtually spoiled her, as much as she could have. As an orphaned child of the Medici she had little to offer except for her inheritance which she herself could never touch. As a girl she wasn't considered desired or productive for the family, except as a pawn to be married off. Eventually she became his pet project, though it was more likely only a product of the power and money that came with his guardianship.

He was a religious man, but not an idiot. Just as France had benefited from her vast fortunes so had the Vatican.

She was certain enough that he did care for her, but he too was a product of his time. His position as the earthly leader of the Church was nearly as tenuous as hers was as now Queen of France and they both knew it.

What time he did spend with her though he expressed a sympathy for her circumstances and seemed to care a little. At least he didn't treat her with scorn or only look at her as if she was stock to be sold. In his own way she thought he might have even loved her, but even an Italian could only go so far in exhibiting such emotions.

It was a facade she knew all too well in interacting with her own children amidst the prying eyes of the court. She was a mother, but more often than she would have liked she was required to maintain her image as Queen of France rather than as mother.

Staunch, strong, and only moderately yielding.

It was an effective strategy for keeping the lord's and ladies in line, but a terrible burden for her children to bear.

When she and Henry were young they had dreamed of how they would raise their children. The boys would be strong and even tempered. Able to command the attention of others with but a look, while also maintaining a presence of calm surety. The girls were to be serene pictures of grace, but witty and charming.

That dream had for the most part come true, though Francis was always more sickly than Catherine would have liked and Margot was beginning to show quite a bit of spunk for a young princess.

And then there were the tragedies they had together experienced.

The death of a child, a pain that haunts a parent forever. It was one of the things Henry had been faithful in helping her through no matter the state of their marriage at the time.

As if summoned by her thoughts alone Henry began to stir. It would seem that the evening before had thoroughly tired the children out as they had yet to wake, even in the least. It was still early, but Catherine knew that the children would normally have been up and about by this hour. A byproduct of the boundless energy that all young children seem to have in abundance.

Once he was awake enough to focus on his surroundings Henry's were drawn to hers like magnets. Several emotions seemed to pass over his face before a soft smile graced his features and his gravely voice broke the morning stillness.

"Good morning Catherine, I hope your sleep was restful."

Beginning to wake more fully he used the fingers currently cradling her to begin drawing indiscriminate shapes on her arm.

Oh those hands.

So gentle and caring, yet so easily used for treachery and inflicting pain.

She was grateful for the softness he was now expressing, but also knew that his temper rarely afforded such niceties for long. Even if his actions were purely a reaction to the frustration of political matters, his emotional responses were never half way and rarely remained contained to the situation in question.

Having been on the receiving end of a few of his more intense moments, she knew this for certain.

Although at times they were to her benefit if she needed his decisions to be a bit more impulsive, this was not always the case and the very spot he was now rubbing had been on the receiving end of more than a few bruises thanks to said intensity.

Usually he was apologetic about it later unless they were on really bad terms, and it was indeed in these moments that she was grateful for the station and title she carried.

One could not dispose of a Queen so easily, and she made a point of becoming especially difficult should anyone ever try. Knowledge was leverage, and leverage kept you alive more effectively than even a blade.

Realizing that he was probably waiting for an answer, she opened her mouth to respond when little Margot began to stir and was soon accounted for in the land of the conscious.

Instead of actually answering Catherine simply nodded her head briefly before turning her attention to her youngest daughter and in preparation for the boys waking as well.

Little girls were many things, but quiet and contained while waking up was rarely one of them.

And at any rate it was time to rise and face the day…ready or not.

-/-/-/-/-

The small brood decided to take breakfast in Catherine's sitting room which was going splendidly until Margot again decided a game was in order.

Again she chose a scene that they were to play act, and much to Catherine's horror the scene she chose was that of a wedding. Catherine tried to divert her youngest daughter into being the bride herself to no avail. The young princess wanted her mother and father to play the bride and groom and that was simply the end of it.

Catherine might have even been able to go along with it more willingly if the acting hadn't come with interspersed stage directives and sporadic scripting by her young daughter.

At first there were just a few toasts and many congratulations for the 'newlyweds. She also asked to see their first dance and for Henry to kiss Catherine's hand, but of course it couldn't end there.

After finally settling back down to eat Margot made the first of her less than favorable requests, at least for Catherine.

First they were to take turns feeding each other. When Catherine explained that no one actually did that, especially for a wedding in front of the court her youngest explained that of course no on would do that, but that this was make-believe so the rules could be bent.

Henry of course decided to have some fun with it and when a dollop of cream ended up straying to the corner of her mouth he swiped the confection off with his own finger and licked the digit with gusto. Then next time he instead offered his digit for her to lick clean, grinning like a school boy the whole time.

She had obliged him, not wanting to make a scene in front of her oh so hopeful daughter, but when it happened again and this time he moved to kiss away the misplaced food and her lips pursed in respond.

"Don't worry mama, it's just us here. There is no one to scold papa for showing how much he loves you, and you can trust us to keep your secret."

"And what secret might that be my sweet girl?"

"That you love father, and that he loves you."

This earned her a raised eyebrow from Catherine. "Oh really little one, and how do you know that?"

"Because you both look at each other in that special way that you don't for anyone else, even different that the way that father looks at the the scary lady that he spends so much time with."

"You mean Diane?"

Nodding her head in vigorous affirmation she answered, "yes, her. "

Henry couldn't help himself, he chuckled at the words that came his youngest daughter's lips. They might now have been so amusing coming from anyone else, but her her of all people to come up with such a description.

Catherine managed a greater modicum of control and merely asked in slightly amused but ultimately curious tone, "Oh, and why do you say that?"

"Because she is always so tall and stiff, and her lips don't act like normal lips."

"Really Margot," chimed in Henry, "and how do her lips act instead?"

Margot of course had to show her parents all that she meant which made her final description all the more comical.

"Well sometimes like this," and she curled her lips into the smallest pout either had ever seen, "and other times like this," she continued, flattening her mouth into the thinnest line Catherine thought she had ever seen on her daughter.

"And what makes that so scary?" inquired Henry, thankfully still without a hint of malice in his tone.

"Because mother never looks at us that way, only the pesky and stubborn men at court, and occasionally the women. When they do what they shouldn't mother given them those looks to make sure they stay in line, but Diane looks that way all the time."

"Well I suppose I will have to go about trying to fix that my little princess."

"Or you could just ask mama to fix it father, she is real good at fixing things," finished Margot, having no understanding of the depth of that statement…or the entire breath of the conversation.

"Indeed she is," Henry answered, reminded ever so clearly as to the absolute truth in those words.


	7. Two Souls Circling

Disclaimer: I neither own Reign, nor profit from this story.

The day went on from there more or less without incident. Unfortunately there were visiting dignitaries due to arrive at the Castle and so neither Royal were able to spend much time with their children during day.

It was however, as if overnight Henry had remembered that Catherine was more than just a political ally, and occasionally puppet. This morning he kissed her so unassumingly she was nearly a puddle in his hands. During court he turned to her and intentionally drew her into the deliberations and actually asked her to weigh in on what she thought of the matter. He was the perfect gentleman attending to and addressing her throughout the day, escorting her to her seat at dinner and even pushing her chair in as she sat. Finally he spent the entire evening with the children until they went to bed, whereupon he kissed her goodnight, flopped onto his back and seemly fell asleep.

Catherine lay there for a few minutes just trying to catch her breath from the last few days.

Turning her head to watch her sleeping husband Catherine thought back to the events of the last few days. Overnight Henry had gone from being his usual prideful, indulgent, careless self to a thoughtful, playful, respectful husband and father. Although there were times during Court that he had to maintain his expected Kingly facade, he had been far more considerate and far less flippant than he had in years.

His nearness and supposed genuineness was beginning to feel suffocating.

She needed some air.

Getting out of bed faster than she probably should have as she was not intending on waking Henry she found her slippers and put on her dressing gown. Crossing her arms over her chest and making her way over to the window she opened one pane and looked out.

The moon was shining brightly and reflected in silver hues all over the landscape of the Castle grounds.

It really was beautiful even though most days it felt like a prison.

In light of recent events her mind began running through different times in the past that she and Henry had shared, both good and bad.

Midnight rides to places unknown, afternoon walks through the gardens, watching the children play near the peaceful benches of the Castle fountains. Henry chasing after her when he or one of the other men of Court had bothered her enough that she let it show, hiding amongst the hedges when Henry's affections for Diane once again became unbearable, mourning the deaths of their little children where small tokens of their parent's affections had been created close at hand.

So many years, so many memories, so many tied directly to the man slumbering in her bed right now.

Turning back to him she walked to his side of the bed and studied his face more intently.

Her husband.

Once her Prince and now her King.

So many years, so many mistakes, so many moments gained and lost.

Leaning down she ghosted a kiss on his lips, fleeting but fully intentional.

When he showed no signs of waking she padded back over to her side of the bed and climbed in. Settling back in she pillowed her head on her left arm, turning to face him as she tried to quiet the churning thoughts and fall asleep.

-/-/-/-/-

Henry was many things, but asleep was not one of them.

Lying still while Catherine first halted before getting into bed, then eventually left. He was so very tempted to get up and try to comfort her from whatever had caused her to leave in the first place, to leave their bed in the middle of the night.

Yes their bed, as it was te bed they would most frequently share before their paths parted ways all those years ago. Too much pride, too much stubbornness. These became the building blocks for the walls they both built as arrow after arrow and dagger after dagger flew between them. Day after day, week after week, year after year their insistence on beating out the other became their only common thread for many years.

It was a bipartisan effort, though they rarely responded with the same strength at the same time.

When that happened even her most trusted ladies and his closest advisors hid until the moment had passed. Fire and brimstone, hatred and desire. The two of them were passion personified in everything that they did, and their marital relations were no exception.

Wounds inflicted out of frustration and anger, retribution, pain, and sorrow.

They were each other's best ally and worst enemy.

Catherine was the planner, meticulous and detail oriented. He was the people pleaser, able to claim or calm a room by sheer force of personality. It was one of the reasons they were so effective as rulers but also so insufferable as partners.

They were each other's opposites in most ways and when misdirected it made for a very volatile relationship.

When Catherine's shadow moved over him he had to hold his breath, so curious was he at what she intended to do. He had cracked his eyelids ever so slightly when she was over at the window, his impulses overtaking his sense of stealth. In this moment however, he could do no such thing and it took everything he had to resist responding when she kissed him.

She chose to do that, completely uncoerced.

Finally she returned to the warmth and comfort of their bed and he waited with baited breath to see what she would do next.

At first she just lay there, near him but still without any contact. Then, as if she was battling her own instinct to run as she often did with him she slowly, tentatively slid further over to him and gently lay her head on his chest.

He had chosen to forego a shirt tonight and so her breath whispered against his bare skin.

Feeling her slowly surrender to sleep he eventually put his arm around her shoulders when he was sure she past the point of reawakening. She began to move and moaned softly when he was half way to his desired destination and froze there. Apparently though she was simply adjusting in her sleep as soon after she settled fully down into stillness.

When she was quiet once again he finished his intended task then just lay there for a while.

At first this was only a game, but as he had been so vividly reminded of what it was to be on Catherine's good side, to be the recipient of her affections…perhaps not fully genuine at this point but nearer than they had been in a while. Despite many in Court claiming that she had a heart of ice he knew all too well the utter lie that it was. His Catherine felt more than most people he knew, and all the more so for those close to her or in her close purview.

Her patronage of the arts, her treatment of the workers from the Castle, and especially her own ladies.

And then there were the children. Oh he was kicking himself for not listening to her and seeking them out sooner. Even Claude and Francis had been receptive to his offering to spend time with him, as well as to his guidance.

Once again she had been right. He would have to remember to tell her that. Perhaps it might garner him a smile, or even more preferable a bit of good will and trust.

Shifting once more to nuzzle her nose into his chest he was almost undone. Between her movements and the quiet mewling noises she was making he nearly flipped her over right there and showed her exactly how much this side of her was affecting him. But he had a bigger goal in mind.

He did not want her to submit to him out of duty or a bargain, he wanted her back fully as his wife, his beloved. To do that he knew he needed to first win back her heart.

A heart well practiced at denying his attempts at charming and wooing her.

Eventually turning to face her while still maintaining contact he succeeded in cradling her to himself. If she did wake up he could claim that he was still asleep and simply moving unconsciously in line with his desires to be near her.

With both arms around her, he gave in to his desire to care for her, even in such a small way.

He knew at this point she would hardly allow him otherwise.

It was a small gift, but likely the only one she would accept right now.

He had been an idiot, and now he was paying the price.

At least he had figured that out sooner than later and was working to mend what he had broken. Her was reasonably sure it was not too late, he certainly hoped her acquiescent was a sign that she was giving him another chance.

At this point he could only hope.

Hope, and pray, and continue to woo her…heart and her soul.


	8. A Storm Approaches

Disclaimer: I neither own Reign, nor profit from this story.

Henry had left this morning on a hunt with the newest visiting Ambassador. This one was from the far east and several members of his privy counsel chose to accompany them. The hunt was planned to last several days and was in fact Catherine's suggestion. Bonding over weapons and dead animals always seemed to be the most expedient way for men to secure a mutual respect for each other without the involvement of a power play, and Henry always enjoyed them as well.

What they gained from such activities she would never understand, but that was beside the point.

Unfortunately several of the lords who had chosen to stay behind seemed to have done so for the own gain and Catherine had spent much of the morning putting out small fires and running interference in an attempt to keep the damage down to a minimum.

Though it was not in any way Henry's fault she couldn't help but feel a little annoyed at him for not being here to help. Aside from that, the sheer disrespect that presented plainly on their faces was enough to drive her back to her cabinet of potions and teach them a lesson they would not soon forget.

"Mama, mama, mama!"

First Henry, now little Henry. It seemed that she was doomed to remain in the presence of men who deemed her attention so important that shouting was the only way to properly catch it.

At least both of their demands were generally more pleasant than those she had the pleasure of dealing with in the last several hours.

Finally reaching his target, little Henry ran up to Catherine running into her legs and nearly knocking her over in the process.

"Mama I can't find Charles!"

Smiling indulgently at her little prince and wrapping her arms around him Catherine prepared herself to discuss all the eventualities of where his older brother might have gone. This happened nearly once a week and was usually related to a game of tag, which often ended with the boys roping her into their game when little Henry became frustrated with his brother's ability to conceal himself so well.

"And what were you doing my little prince when Charles became lost to you?"

Ruffling his hair only to straighten it back down again, she tried to calm him down first lest he give her an account of everything they had done leading up to the game instead of the simple answer she desired.

"We were playing tag mama and Claude decided to play along too, but when she became 'it' and it was Charles and my time to hide he opened the door to the passageway and decided to go hide in there." Having run out of breath the boy took an exaggerated inhale before continuing. "And I told him not to but he said 'I'm a big boy Henry, not like you. I'm not scared of the dark or these old tunnels. Now go and hide before Claude finds us both."

Those tunnels were dangerous. Even she heeded them with plenty of caution, which is is exactly why she very specifically banned all of her children from playing in them. Now significantly more concerned but not yet in full panic mode Catherine continued in her questioning to determine exactly how much of a problem this might be.

"And have you told your sister this? Where he has gone and which entrance he used?"

Stroking his cheek to try to further calm him she continued, despite her own rising fears. "Your sister used to play in those tunnels despite mama's protests and should know them enough to look around a little."

"Well at first I hid, because I only thought he would hide right inside. Then Claude found me and just like I'm supposed to I didn't say a word. But then even she couldn't find him and so I told her, and she went in to look. But she was in there forever and then even she could't find him and came back out and told me to come get you."

Now significantly more worried she urged him to continue.

"I see, and what did she say to tell me?"

"She said that Charles must have gone too far in and that she could not find him anywhere. She said that she would need help and that I should come find you right away."

Smiling despite the ever increasing panic that was now tightening in her chest, she answered him, already coming up with several eventualities that would need to be addressed in the next few moments. At best Charles was simply wandering around and lost. At worst he could be seriously injured and in need of assistance.

"Well then why don't I send for your nanny so that you can calm down and find something else to play with until we can find that brother of yours. Then mama will go and make sure to remind him how dangerous those tunnels are."

"No mama I want to help!"

"I know my little prince, but this is a job for older brothers and sisters, and for grown-ups."

Already pushing him out of the room Catherine called two of her ladies over, one to retrieve his nanny and the other to keep an eye on him in the mean time.

Swiftly moving into action she called for her most trusted ladies and guards to begin organizing several search parties. She also made sure that at least one individual in each group was paying extra attention to the course and safety of the tunnels. Though this was not how she would have chosen to get a more vivid depiction of the ancient passageways it was not one she would pass up.

Ultimately she decided to remain at the doorway where her son had entered with instructions that someone from the party should be sent to retrieve her the moment he was found.

Having sent each party off armed with torches and the longest length of cord they could find she remained at the doorway pacing as she awaited news. Giving up on the pretense that she was fine she permitted her mind to wander, her hands picking her cuticles raw as a way to remain somewhat connected to reality.

To her dismay her mind kept wandering to the one person that was currently out of reach.

Henry.

There was so sense wasting the time and the guards and have someone ride after him. The prince would either be fine or…the prince would be fine.

She had in this whole process of becoming somewhat more permissive toward Henry and how close she allowed him forgotten about this part of the deal. Not the verbal agreement she recently struck with him, but the one that her heart entered into every time she allowed him this close. That when he was near, when she allowed him to consciously creep back into her heart and take up residence there, that his absent was felt all the more.

Shaking one hand as she went a little too far with one of her cuticles and the pain became noticeably sharp she sucked the finger into her mouth to try and placate the digit while her feet continued in their journey.

Turning as the door creaked open and Nostradamus walked through. She nearly ran to him, dragging him nearer to wait with her.

If she couldn't have Henry she at least could have Nostradamus to help and steady her.

Him she could count on. Him she could trust. Not only because of his somewhat indentured service to her, but for his heart. The metaphorical representation of his eternally kind and gentle soul was far greater than hers or Henry's would ever be, and it was this that she trusted. To her knowledge he truly knew no other way, no other path than that which was good and right. Some days she envied him.

Although her end goal was always to keep her family safe, and to a degree there was probably some nobility in that, there was no length she was not willing to go in order to achieve that goal. It made for a committed but dangerous combination and had long ago accepted the inevitable blackening of her soul.

Several hours had past and still nothing. The tunnels as predicted were rife with pitfalls and debris and several men had come back with injuries, only to return to their task when the look on the Queen's face confirmed that anything barring a life threatening injury would result in a further and much more painful consequence should they continue away from their current path.

She was getting so anxious that Nostradamus considered sedating her for his sanity alone.

The Queen always appeared in control with everything publicly, except perhaps her temper, but that was intentionally permitted for effect.

For those who knew her privately though they knew that far more often than she would like she was anything but. This was especially true when it came to her family, but also political decisions which could have any variation of a perilous outcome for those involved.

He had also noticed an almost imperceptible softening of the Queen in recent weeks, and there were only two forces in the universe that could be the case of that…her children and her husband. Yes Nostradamus was well aware of this barely veiled truth, that the Queen of France was in fact in love with her husband. A knowledge he acquired as one of the privileged few who knew her almost personally over the many years.

He also saw what happened every time they had a falling out, and it would appear that his current absence was part of what was causing her current level of agitation. ,

Oh the pleasure and the predicament of being one of the favored few.

Hopefully Henry would be back soon or else the Castle might be in for a minor hurricane if Charles were not found soon…and France was worried about the English. If it only knew of the sometimes precarious power that lay within it's own borders.


	9. When the World Tilts Sideways

Disclaimer: I neither own Reign, nor profit from this story.

When the news finally came they both rushed to the sight.

"Majesty, we found Prince Charles but…"

The guard began, but she hushed him almost immediately, "I want not a moment's delay, I want to see my son, now."

She almost wished she had listened.

Charles was lying on the ground, at the bottom of what probably used to be a small fight of stairs. Now though it was a pile of timber, some of which followed Charles down while much of the rest had been removed from what remained to let in more light and affect his rescue. From what they could see his arm at an odd angle and the eyes and her dear sweet Charles were closed. His little body was covered in marks and scrapes and he was not moving.

One of her ladies had just been lowered down to check on him more closely, she being the smallest and lightest of the party, and was able to report back that he was alive.

Though the men had been reticent to send a woman to complete such a task every guard there was from Catherine's personal contingency and knew how resourceful her ladies could be. They also knew that she trusted her ladies far more than themselves and so hoped it would also put in a slightly better mood.

In the silence that followed as everyone waited with baited breath, the only sound that could be heard was the distinctive squeak of rats whose environment had clearly been disturbed by the incident. Shuddering at the images that conjured and already on edge, it was all Catherine could to do to wait with everyone else and not attempt to climb down there herself.

"Would somebody please explain to be why is he still down there and not up here?" she asked quite brusquely, not even caring how she sounded at this point.

"We are sorry your Majesty but we have to move carefully or more could fall making his situation worse." Just then another guard walked over with a long plank in hand. Stopping just next to the Queen he motioning forward as she would need to move so that they could continue with the rescue.

Four guards stood around the hole and looped two ropes around the board. Tying them off in notches strategically cut in to wood so the board wouldn't simply slip out as they lowered or raised it they slowly lowered it down to the boy and Catherine's lady.

Fortunately the boy was on his side when everything was in place so all she had to do was carefully roll him onto the board and tie his body still with some silk scarves she had procured for just such a task. Carefully once she was certain he was secure she gave the go ahead for the guards to raise the board up.

They moved more slowly than anyone would have liked but the very last thing they wanted was to face the Queen's temper should they accidentally slip.

Finally when the Prince was once again safely on sturdy ground Catherine nearly collapsed beside him, She called out to the boy who had barely moved since her arrival. "Charles," she called clasping his hand in one of hers and bringing her other to rest on his cheek. "Charles, can you hear me?"

Moving his head slowly side to side the prince tried to open his eyes, but seemed extremely groggy and unfocused, barely able to complete his intended task.

"Mama?"

Nostradamus barely gave her a moment though before he wedged himself in so that he could properly examine the boy.

Keeping her hand firmly attached to her son's, Catherine looked on as Nostradamus gave him enough of an examination to determine that he could be moved safely. Signaling the guards over he remained attentive of the boy's every whimper while being moved.

The noises meant he could still feel pain, which was good. Nostradamus just hoped that the boy's injuries were not greater than his capacity to help heal them.

Finally satisfied that all was well enough he instructed them to begin their return journey on onto the Seer's chambers.

Having fully extradited the prince from his mother's grasp he left the Queen to her own devices as he attended intently to the Prince. At first glance the boy had simply taken a nasty fall and broken his arm, but there was still a chance that there was an injury he could not see.

He was reasonably certain he would not only be treating the child tonight but also his mother as her worries for her children only increased when one of them actually was in poor health.

Just what he wanted for the evening, a worried Catherine pacing around his rooms.

-/-/-/-/-

When everything was finally settled and anyone unnecessary persons were dismissed, Nostradamus confirmed his initial diagnosis…of both patients.

Charles needed his arm set and splinted and Catherine needed a sedative just so that she would not drive him to insanity. He of course told her nothing of his meddling, but as she would not be leaving tonight he intended on keeping her as calm and docile as possible.

Eventually settling the Prince down for the night and Catherine into a chair next to his bed, Nostradamus also prepared a light sedative for little Henry who would no doubt be coming to visit as well. When Charles had been settled and well asleep Nostradamus finally pulled the full story out of Catherine from what she could tell him. Knowing of the close bond the two boys shared, he predicted that sooner than later the younger Prince would show up. Sure enough not a half hour later heard the voice of his agitated nanny trying to dissuade him from coming to see his brother,

Walking over solemnly he stood next to his brother's bed and stared down at him.

"Mama said that the passageways were dangerous and that we were not to play in them."

"That sounds like your mother child."

Looking over at the sleeping woman, little Henry stared at her as if she could answer whatever clouded his little mind.

"Your mother thought you might come down here," began Nostradamus, retrieving a small wooden cup from his work table. "She said that if you did, you could stay but that you must drink this first."

Nodding his head and taking the cup he downed the whole thing, though looking at his face he was clearly less than thrilled at the taste of the concoction. Knowing that mother's concoctions were often displeasing to the taste he was accustomed to taking them without comment, but that did not make it any more desirable.

Handing the cup back to the seer the little prince went over to his mother and carefully crawled into her lap.

She stirred briefly, but only enough to maneuver them both into the chair.

As Nostradamus looked on he smiled at the simple and heartwarming sight that he was made privy to. It was a rare occurrence to see Catherine in such a state. A rare and precious one, that he was fortunate to be in the presence of more than most.

She was quite a woman. So many facets, so much to behold, most of which remained hidden to all but a special few.

Yes fortunate indeed.


	10. The Colors of Anger and Fear

Disclaimer: I neither own Reign, nor profit from this story.

Charles was in pain, but Nostradamus seemed to be content with his current state of health.

By the next afternoon he had begun to spike a fever which had not yet fully let up. Several times he gave them both quite a scare when it felt like his forehead was literally burning, but Nostradamus's knowledge and herbs been quite effective at diminishing the effects at least for a time.

Catherine had finally given into the pull of duty and gone to clean herself up enough to make sure that the kingdom was not burning in the visibly combined absence of their King and Queen.

Fortunately a majority of the 'problems' from the day before all but evaporated. Apparently word of the young Prince's mishap had spread and with the exception of one particularly persistent Noble the Court for once was quiet. He heralded from the area of Drome and seemed absolutely insistent on stretching her patience to the limit.

Finally tired of hearing his incessant talking Catherine simply walked out on him.

She might hear about it from Henry or even more from the esteemed Noble later, but for the moment she didn't care.

Deciding to stop by her rooms for a book Charles always favored Catherine was on her way out when she noticed a piece of paper nailed to the back of her door. It appeared to be a short poem from it's meter and length.

Wondering first how this got in here without her guards knowing she tore it down in order to give them a piece of her mind when the phrase itself caught her eye…

'Ring, a ring of roses'

Stopping where she was, she tried to remember where she had heard that phrase before.

Initially coming up blank she reread the whole thing in hopes of coming up with the answer she sought.

Still nothing.

The words fit, and she knew she had heard them before but she could not quite place it.

Deciding that it would come to her eventually she continued on her way, book in hand. By the time she made it back down to see Charles he was still running a fever and had fallen into a restless sleep. According to Nostradamus all was well in hand, but she knew how dangerous fevers could be.

It may be little more than a persistent illness, but she was still is mother and she worried.

-/-/-/-

She had eventually been pulled away by one of her ladies. The order she had placed and checked months ago with the kitchens was being prepared two weeks before the event was even due to take place.

Striding down there she stopped at the double doors leading into the kitchens and took a moment to prepare herself.

And then she noticed it.

Nailed to the door was a dead rat and behind it a note much like what she found in her rooms. Carefully pulling the note out from behind the animal she read another line written in the same handwriting as the first…

'A pocket full of posies'

It seemed to be a continuation of the first verse, but she still couldn't place it.

The dead rat however gave her chills.

Shaking her head and gathering her energy to take care of this supposed mishap she entered the kitchens with her usual bluster to finish what she came here to do.

Once done she decided to conduct an impromptu examination of the kitchens and noticed that they seemed particularly light on staff. Upon inquiring she learned that several of the workers had been unable to come in due to illness.

She made note of this but reminded them that even with a depleted staff, their most recent mistake was absolutely unacceptable and that she expected more of them.

Making her way down a particularly secluded hallway so that she could return to her sick son and was confronted with an ever disturbing yet not particularly uncommon sight. A servant girl was slumped against the hallway at an odd angle. Far too familiar with he look of death Catherine began to approach her.

Noticing a paper not dissimilar in size or shape to the first placed at her feet she picked it up and read the contents…

'Ashes, ashes we all fall down.'

Remembering where she had heard the phrase she looked more closely at the girls neck where sure enough she could see several large rose colored welts.

Her heart leapt into her throat as she finally remembered where she knew the verses from. It was a, English peasant's rhyme born out of a time back about two hundred years when the whole of Europe was infected with the greatest judgement they had seen before or since.

Plague.

There had been several more resurgences of the illness since that major outbreak and rhymes such as this had filtered all over Europe spreading across boundaries and languages as the sentiment was the same wherever the plague appeared.

Stumbling back and nearly running to see Nostradamus she made it there is record time.

Slowing herself just enough so that it would not look as if she had actually run the whole way she walked in to a most dreaded sight. There on several cots in the main room were several patients who appeared to be stricken with something not unlike what Charles had been.

The prince himself was in a room off of the main ones and so still separated but the sight only made her worries increase ten fold.

Briskly walking to find Nostradamus she non too gently pulled him off to the side and presented him with the three notes. He read them in order but instead of beginning to panic like she had he merely looked at them puzzled.

"Majesty I don't know that I would jump to that conclusion just yet. Certainly the number of patients I nowhere may point to such an epidemic, but I haven't seen…"

"This last note was found by a girl dead in the hallway, her neck clearly inflicted by something that looked an awful lot like what was seen the last time this blight marched through France."

"And I realize that the rate of infection is worrying, but I am still not convinced your Majesty."

Catherine again opened her mouth once again to counter him, but he beat her to it.

"Catherine, if I may. Should this indeed be the plague than there is nothing you or I can do for anyone down here, including the Prince. As I seem to be immune I will go and examine this girl as we as to continue to monitor things here."

Catherine tried to speak but he once again cut her off.

"Should anything definitive be determined or anything change I will let you you know. In the mean time, I believe it is your duty to ensure your own safety until we can say for sure what is and what isn't, yes?"

Turning as if to return to Charles side she froze mid movement and nodded slowly. Backing way and turning to leave the room she could barely stop the tears from falling from her eyes.

This could not be happening.

-/-/-/-

Nostradamus waited until the next evening to definitively send any word to the Queen.

Not plague.

He could not tell for certain but the dead girl's neck seemed to have been made to look like the telltale red welts after her death. What made his decision though was the fact that his current patient showed no further signs of their symptoms worsening.

A high fever, yes. But no welts or other marks and they were all still alive. more than twenty four hours since they had been admitted including the prince himself.

With Henry due to return either that evening or the next morning the Court had stayed quiet and the problems Catherine needed to handle the day before wisely chose to stay out of sight and out of her hair.

A certain flight of young distractions may have helped in this regard, but only Catherine needed to know this.

Catherine had in fact locked herself in her own rooms with instructions that she should only be disturbed if there was word on Charles or some other dire circumstance that required her attention.

As she had been with Charles not long before he began showing symptoms it was unwise for her to see anyone, especially her other children should she in fact fe infected.

When word finally came she rushed down to see her boy, barely able to keep the panic put of her eyes.

She needed to see for herself that he was alright.

She spent nearly an hour with him until he again fell asleep, in part because of his healing body and in part because of the herbs Nostradamus had been supplying at even intervals.

He would be fine, assured Nostradamus. They all would be fine.


	11. Ashes, Ashes, We all Fall down

Disclaimer: I neither own Reign, nor profit from this story.

Henry was on his way to Catherine's rooms.

It was late and he was tired, but she had scared her ladies badly enough they felt the need to seek him out at this late hour.

He had returned from the three day hunt but because of the hour had planned to spend the night in his own rooms so as not to disturb his wife. But after hearing the frantic tone of his petitioner he decided to change his plans.

They also briefly informed him of what had happened to Charles, but all they seemed to know was that he fell and injured himself and then came down with a fever. He could see no real connection between his injuries and her apparent reaction. especially one so severe. Charles was fine and resting comfortably and all of the other children were also resting peacefully.

He also found out that once Nostradamus was certain that Charles was indeed on the mend he sent Catherine away, citing that she needed a proper night's sleep and threatening to have her drugged and carried back to her rooms if she didn't comply. She was visibly exhausted and even after finding out that her fears were for naught she still looked like death warmed over from all the worry.

This might not make her happy, but surely should not result in this kind of a reaction.

Henry knew that Nostradamus walked a fine line of truth and honesty with his wife, which he admired. There were few that could even approach that line, never mind walk it and the seer did so with impressive finesse.

Her ladies had told him that she was out on the balcony in only her nightgown and dressing gown in the frigid night air, and she wouldn't come in.

When she finally was in eyesight, Henry took a moment to observe her.

For all her bluster and grandeur during the day, he knew that there were times that even she became as if a small scared child. He could see her shivering from here and when he reached out to try and coax her in she was as cold as ice.

"Catherine," he hedged as he gently tugged at her arm.

Nothing.

Fully taking hold of her arm and reaching out for her other Henry turned her around and saw the tear streaks that lined her face. Her eyes far away she barely registered his presence. He half pulled, half carried her inside now suitably worried.

Not knowing what else to do he brought her over to the fire and set her on the chaise which was set near enough that the heat could reach her easily.

Leaving her momentarily he searched for a blanket to wrap her in and when he finally reached her again her eyes had drifted to the fire, still unseeing.

Once she was wrapped in the warm folds he tried again to rouse her but was still unsuccessful. The only thing that changed was that she now had some fresh tear streaks down her cheeks.

Sighing, Henry knelt in front of her, not knowing what else to do.

"Catherine, what…"

"Just leave me be Henry," her hoarse voice croaked out.

"Catherine I…at least let me help you into bed, you are in no state to be alone and upright at the moment and you've scared all of your ladies away."

Biting her lip and looking away Catherine refused to answer him at all.

Well that wasn't a no…

Waiting a few more moments to see if she would say anything or even react at all, he decided he probably wouldn't get one. He rose and scooped her up like a child, blanket and all and brought her over to the bed.

He placed her down where the covers had already been turned and tucked her in. Turning to leave, he was surprised when he had shot out weakly to stop him,

"Henry, don't go…"

He was already in his nightwear, and it wasn't as if this was the first night he'd spent here recently.

Nodding his head, he moved around the bed, toed off his slippers, and carefully climbed in. He made sure there was enough space to not make her uncomfortable, but that he'd be there if she wanted him.

He had finally settled and thought that Catherine had fallen asleep as well when she rolled over and grabbed Henry's shoulders like a lifeline, pulling him to her.

She felt like she was drowning.

Fusing her lips to his she tried instead to drown herself in him. To chase away the fear and worry, the feeling of loss and abandonment that was trying to consume her. Her kisses were demanding, were all consuming and it took a minute for Henry to find his bearing.

Confused by her sudden movement, he tried to leverage some space between them but she was relentless.

Eventually he rolled them over and held her down, "Catherine, what is it? Tell me what is going on?"

Clawing at his chest to try to pull him back down, her movements went from determined, to frantic, to weak and listless as the tears were set free once again and she was gasping for breath in between each sob.

Turning her head away she tried to hide from his questioning eyes, his caring curious eyes that would demand an answer she was not ready to give, was not sure she could.

Instead she tried to curl into herself and block him out completely.

He tried to turn her in his direction but she resolutely refused. He could overpower her but that rarely ended well. Instead he flopped down next to her and began rubbing circles on her back. Eventually her shoulders started to shake as she desperately tried to repress the inner turmoil that was breaking through her otherwise impenetrable defenses.

He wanted so badly to help her though whatever was haunting her but she was so unpredictable like this that he couldn't even begin to guess what might work.

He called her name once, continuing to rub her back and prayed for the best.

It worked.

Catherine rolled over and buried her face in his chest as she continued to sob. Angry, broken, heart wrenching tears.

Henry put his arms around her as best as he could and held her to his chest.

Still unsure of what he should do, he decided that the best thing he could do at this point was just to be there for her.

Eventually exhausting herself she escaped into the shadows of a restless sleep.

There was a good chance she would either wake up again tonight or would be especially prickly tomorrow morning, but there was little he could do about it at this moment.

She would tell him when she was ready, and not until.

His strong, beloved Catherine.

-/-/-/-

As he had predicted just a few hours later Catherine was restless again, though she was far from conscious.

Tossing and turning in increasingly more violent intervals, her movements woke him, but her mumbling was what worried him.

Catherine had several types of nightmares that she endured. When they…separated, at least in the moments when he wasn't mad at her, it was during these moments that he regretted most not being by her side.

Some were from her childhood, though he had yet to get a fully satisfactory answer as for why. Others were for periods during their rule that he knew she deeply regretted. And several were for incidents that happened with him or the children, including those whom they had lost.

Tonight she seemed to be cycling through several, if her words were any indication which was probably the reason for the physical distress as well. If the nightmares were weaving themselves to further create one collective dream he couldn't even imagine how she would handle it. Then again, he was already in awe at what she managed to handle any of these in the first place.

He tried calling out to her at first. Using her formal French name first, then the Italian variation of it. When neither worked he tried various pet names he had given her over the years.

Nothing.

Next he tried soothing gestures on whatever part of her body was nearest him and not flailing.

This worked to a degree and began to calm her until her nightmare took another turn and her movements became worse again. Wonderful, he would likely have to physically restrain her to draw her out of this one.

Extraditing himself from the covers and doing his best to do the same for her he began calling out to her again before attempting to touch her at all.

"Catherine. Catherine if you can hear me it's Henry, I'm right here. Catherine you are having a nightmare and I need to bring you out of it. If you can hear me I'm going to come closer now and try to snap you out of it. Catherine…Catherine."

When he still received no response he carefully climbed over her legs until he was able to position himself on either side of her and close his own around hers, wrapping them around her legs completely and linking them underneath so that she could be moved but was essentially immobilized

This made the rest of her movements even more violent, but for the most part less dangerous.

Next he reached up to grab her arms and hugged them to her side, rolling them on their side once he was sure enough of his grip.

Once on their side Henry just held her, using calming words to try and help her find her way back and never once letting go. He still had to be careful of where her head might be dodging and jerking, but he had managed to line her face up with his chest so there was little damage to be done.

Eventually her breathing became heavier and her movements calmed. When she buried her face in his chest and remained there, he knew she had won…if one could call it that.

When he was certain she was fully stayed in consciousness he began to release his tight grip and instead cradled her to himself. He had continued speaking to her, and though the frequency slowed, it never fully stopped.

"Catherine I know I am probably the last person you want to speak to right now, but I also know it always helped you when you would share with me, even just a shred of what you were seeing, and each time it has only made my awe of you grow. You are the strongest, most courageous woman I know and hope that you have enough faith in me left to permit yourself even this."

Shaking her head into his chest she tried to curl into herself again but he wouldn't let her.

As she became more insistent and again started to move in the direction of hysterics, he rolled them both over so she was on her back, pinning her hands above her head and began to shower her lips with kisses. First lightly, and then longer and more heated.

He knew better than to kiss her anywhere else. One particularly unfortunate time he had actually sent her back into a waking nightmare. The tears began again at that and as her gasps turned back into sobs Henry rolled off of her and drew her to his side, whispering sweet nothings in her ear.

When she finally calmed again, he asked her once more what had caused such restlessness in her dreams, to which she answered with a question of her own.

"Henry, why are you here?"


	12. In the Hours Before the Dawn

Disclaimer: I neither own Reign, nor profit from this story.

Confused, he thought he had explained himself last night, but perhaps she had forgotten.

"Your ladies came to get me, they were worried…"

"No, Henry. Why are you here…now?"

"Why would I not be Catherine, you were clearly in distress and I…"

"That is nothing new, and you have never seemed to care this much before, at least not when we weren't in one of our better spells, and even then it rarely lasts."

Taking her face in once hand, he rubbed a thumb along her cheek looking her square in her eyes. "Even during our hardest times I have always loved you. Isn't that enough?" he pleaded, trying to convince her with only the intensity of his gaze.

Did she really not know? Could she really not tell?

It had been the discussion, or rather argument most frequently held by he and Diane…he had opened his heart to her when he was fourteen and had been held in a special place there ever since.

"I don't believe you Henry," she said in a voice so devoid of anything feeling, anything…

"Catherine I…"

"You have not given me even the pretense of your whole self since our early years, so how could I? Why would I possibly believe you now Henry? Last night may well have been your guilt and overprotective self wanting to feel as if you could help me, to fix me."

He began to protest but she went on.

"No Henry, it's not enough, and I won't allow you to placate me with your pretty words. I know what love is Henry, because I love you. I have nearly since we met for the first time, and over the years it has grown and changed despite our distance. Love is not fond memories and sporadic affection towards someone whom you otherwise neglect and make the butt of your jokes. Love is two people caring for each other and putting the other first…before themselves. Before their personal desires and desires for such indulgences as you so often not only crave but take full liberties to enjoy."

Taking a deep breath before finishing she began to deliver her final words.

"Henry these last few days have reminded me of what it is like…what it will be like when you tire of me again. When I become more of an inconvenience that you are willing to bear and you once again throw me aside. No matter your intentions or even what you think to be your intentions in this moment, history suggests that this will only last for a spell and that soon I will once again become nothing more than a temporary distraction. I have been reminded of this reality, of facing life alone again and I am unwilling to put myself through that again so soon."

"Catherine please believe me, I have loved you always."

"You have loved what I could give you Henry, nothing more. Heirs to continue your line, a comforting shoulder, a roll in my bed when it suited you, even a hiding spot from Diane in your more cowardly moments…oh yes I know about those times too."

Henry opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off again.

"Leave Henry, like you always do. I don't need your pity."

And with that she got up and out of bed, donning her robe and moving into the next room to give herself some space, fully intending to wait out the rest of the night alone.

-/-/-/-/-

Henry wasn't sure what to do. He had never seen Catherine like this, so open and yet so closed off.

It had never been easy with her. Well perhaps in the beginning before he had lost her trust, but since then it was always a battle, always a game.

Perhaps that was his fault.

But since he had begin spending more time with her and the children he had realized how much he had been missing. How much of a cad he had been and of what could yet be made up for.

The children, despite his derelict neglectfulness had taken to him as if there had been nothing amiss for, well for most of their lives. Francis and Claude had been more hesitant for certain, but even they had found it in themselves to give him a chance.

And then there was Catherine. Sighing as he thought back to these recent days. Even his Catherine had accepted him back without question. As long as he did as she requested, which of course was fully within reason, she never rejected him. She had been more compliant, more permissive than she had been even in their early years.

As a young bride she always tried to be the dutiful wife and submit to his requests, but she had also been so nervous that her demeanor carried a much different aura.

Now she was older, more mature, and more sure of herself. It was as if she was a Queen had come right off the pages of a fairy tale. Poised, graceful, perfectly…everything.

But now what?

She clearly didn't want him, at least not in the same way that he wanted her.

The funny thing is that even that had changed over the last several weeks. No longer did he want to to simply get her off of his mind. He truly desired to be with her, to know her, to…

If he was completely honest with himself, he was truly falling in love with her again.

Not that he had ever really stopped, but this was different.

He had seen her at her worst, he had seen her at her best. Knowing all of these things, and even given their history, being with her these last few weeks had reminded him again of how much he missed her over the years. How she had been so close, and yet so far.

His Catherine.

It was true that she hadn't really been his Catherine is quite some time, but he…she…

He wanted her back.

Not just as his Queen, not just for a brief interlude, but as his wife and the woman that she was. The woman that she had become.

But now what?

He doubted that she had gone farther than the next room. It was still early and she would have needed what was in her wardrobe to have gone any farther than that.

She he go in and see her?

Did he dare?

There was only one way in or out of these rooms and few choices beyond that so he would have to see her no matter what, but what would he say?

'Please my love, I want you to return to me…'

That sounded ridiculous and she had already told him that she was unwilling to do so.

'I have always loved you Catherine, will you give me just one more chance?'

He had already said as much, and with no better a response.

But what else was there to say that he hadn't already said, in kind or in actuality?

What he hadn't done was just that, to do something. To prove his words.

Certainly he had faithfully gone to see the children, but only at her request. But if his words were now meaningless, perhaps there was nothing he could say.

Instead he might strive to win her by showing her. To win her as a petitioning suitor and not as an expectant and demanding husband or King.

Deciding on a course of action, he briefly though of trying to leave her alone completely and removing himself through the tunnels. There was in fact one other way out of the room, he just hadn't used them in many years.

Then he remembered what had happened the last time he had tried to find his way through the tunnels.

He was pretty sure the Baron he had accidentally stumbled on would never look at him without blushing ever again.

No he decided that the simple and direct approach was his best option. Gathering his courage he made his way with measured strides out of her bedchamber and into the next. Seeing Catherine standing at one of the many windows, he went over to her, turned her gently, kissed down the tear tracks that had made their way onto her face and then kissed her deeply though briefly on the lips.

Waiting until she just began to melt into him despite the pained look that still resided on her face. he then stepped away, making sure she was still steady on her own and inclined into a bow. He simultaneously grasped her one hand for a brief kiss as well before he turned to leave.

It took everything in him to not turn back to see her reaction.

He could imagine it but of course his imagination also came up with several other scenarios which may not have gone as he was hoping. Despite his curiosity though, he decided that the effect of his exit was as important as his lack of words.

He needed to prove that he could be different, that he was different.

This was not about his own personal satisfaction, it was about wooing and winning her back.

Caring for her and the children had gotten him this far, and if she had craved the physical intimacy they had been sharing as much as he had than perhaps it would further aid in his cause.

It may have sounded selfish, but that was one area in the which they had always been evenly matched. And Catherine had certainly not needed to be coaxed at all in recent weeks when it came to their renewed affections for each other. It's one of the many things that had astonished him the most in their early years. Once she became sure of herself, and even before for that matter, he had never met another with such passion.

She was certainly one of a kind, and he had let her slip away.

What an idiot.

Continuing on his way, Henry had much to do. Much to do and much to consider, but the reward he knew would be better than any he could even imagine.

To have her back…willingly, wantonly, completely.

A smile found its way onto his face as he considered the possibilities of how to and then when. He could not fail, not when he had again gotten a taste of what once was the sweetest things he knew.

He would know that again, and would not stop until they were once again joined in a mutual desire for such things.

Yes, he would love her again, his Caterina, the love of his life…il suo caro amore.


	13. Running into the Wind

Disclaimer: I neither own Reign, nor profit from this story.

Catherine was one part basket case, two parts angry stallion.

How dare he!

To treat her this way, to play with her emotions, with her life.

It was easy for him to make declarations, to claim that he cared for, but to what end? This had never been them. In their early years they had pretended to engage in such affections, while he was meeting with Diane behind her back until eventually he didn't bother hiding it anymore.

He once sat in her lap while hosting an ambassador…in her lap!

Could he have been more embarrassing if he tried? And now this.

To pretend to care for her? He was in this for one thing and one thing alone. Turning abruptly to return to her room she decided to cancel her meetings and take the morning off.

Stomping back into her bedroom she dismissed all of her ladies with a word and allowed herself some time to be decidedly un-Queen-like.

Only her husband could bring this out in her.

He was infuriating, selfish, prideful, arrogant…but he was her husband, and still had an unshakable hold over her.

Oh why her?

And now it was extremely early in the morning and should she choose to return to bed, for the first time in nearly two weeks it would be empty.

And again she was alone.

Perhaps this time it was her own fault, but Henry had been the one to start this whole thing in the first place. 'They' worked just as they were, just as they had for the duration of their marriage. Unified but separate, no pretensions of love or affection, or at least none that were apparent.

Why did he have to try to change things now?

Deciding instead to make her way through a few personal correspondences she had not had much time for of late she lit a candle and settled herself in for what would likely be a very long morning.

'Men' she huffed.

-/-/-/-

By the time daylight began peeking over the horizon she realized she had only managed to actually write one letter.

She had however made some progress in how she would go about finding the individual responsible for those threatening notes that seemed to be placed quite intentionally for her to find. Whoever they were they would be reminded what a poor choice that was and without a doubt would never make such a mistake again.

Sending several of her ladies off to begin searching for her answer she took a few moments to enjoy the stillness of the morning before she would have to prepare for the rest of the day…ready or not.

She eventually had to see Henry when the Court was convened. Taking her place at his side she made a point of ignoring him knowing that he was probably trying to catch her attention, possibly even staring. He had a knack for dismissing basic social courtesies when they became inconvenient to whatever purpose he sought in the moment. Instead she focused on keeping her seat and observing the crowd as they attended to the decisions of the King

She did notice that several of the Nobles seemed especially keen on eying she and Henry and passing their observations on to those in their near vicinity.

Apparently his behavior was creating a bit of an unsavory stir.

Now that she liked.

Perhaps there would be one good outcome to this whole scenario. If Henry insisted on continuing with this charade than she would not object to the Nobles seeing it as his elevating her above her normal station.

'Normal station,' she almost muttered to herself. She was the Queen of France but because of her origin and her gender she may as well have been a courtier on some days.

Deciding she might get at least a little fun out of this she smirked and brushed Henry's arm, keeping the Nobles in question in her peripheral vision. Indicating that he should come closer she almost felt badly when his look was one of pure joy at her actually initiating something with him.

Almost, but not quite.

"Henry while I appreciate what you attention is doing to alarm the Nobles, this is really too much. What you choose to do in private is one thing, but you are beginning to create an unnecessary stir."

Looking hurt for just a moment at her unexpected remark he recovered quickly, grinning as if he had an amusing rebuttal to whatever she was just proposed. Clasping his hand over hers and giving it a squeeze.

"If it does you good Catherine then I suppose we will have to continue."

Winking at her Henry ran his thumb over the back of her hand before returning his attention to the crowd.

-/-/-/-

Finally the last petitioner filed out but as Catherine made to leave she was stopped by Henry's hand on her wrist.

Looking down at the offending tether she moved her gaze upward to land an annoyed stare at him directly. After a moment of staring each other down Henry moved, but instead of pulling away or scolding her as she was expecting he reached around her body, gathered her other hand next to the first brought her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

And nothing else.

Once done he released her digits, smiled briefly and turned to leave himself.

The things that man did to her…why oh why could she never seem to catch a break?

-/-/-/-/-

When Catherine returned to her rooms that night all she wanted to do was get out of her oppressive clothes, have a long soak, and climb into bed.

No more politics, no more problems, no more Henry.

As she waked into her room though she soon discovered she would not be so lucky.

There lying on what had become his side of the bed was a lump that she could only guess was Henry as no one else would be so brash or in the case of one of their children unannounced.

Occasionally her younger children would ask to sleep with her through the night, but if they were already tucked in to her bed their nannies would have found her already and usually have profusely apologized for not being able to persuade their charge any differently.

Deciding that she was too drained to care she proceeded to get ready for bed, keeping a wary eye on her husband should he be trying to fool her.

Taking her time getting ready, as she was now dreading actually getting into bed, Catherine began to get more and more annoyed at the audacity of this man. Eventually she inwardly gave up trying to make sense of anything and decided that it would be best to just ignore him and whatever ill conceived plot he had concocted.

She may be in love with the man, but she was no fool.

He was toying with her, plain and simple and she refused to let him get the upper hand.

Finally ready and with nothing else to reasonably delay the inevitable she made it over to her 'side' of the bed and gingerly climbed in.

If Henry was in fact asleep she had no desire to wake him.

Finally settled and allowing her mind to drift she was just about to close her eyes when she heard the voice of her husband, unusually quiet, but invariably sure.

"Goodnight Catherine, I hope you sleep restfully and dream deeply of pleasant things."

Her head immediately snapped to the form in question as soon a he started speaking, but he hadn't moved at all as he spoke. In fact he seemed to have no intention of moving at all now that he had said his peace.

This was especially odd as regardless of what Henry was doing he almost never stayed still for longer than a moment. He was notoriously restless and impulsive so that even during their wedding vows he could barely contain his energy. Here though he was offering nothing more than his presence and a word of what, benediction?

Unsure of what she should do or even what he expected she said nothing, closed her eyes and tried to sleep. Perhaps saying nothing was not the best course of action. She was still markedly mad at him for this morning and for the games he had continued throughout the day.

The thoughts in her head beginning to slow down in increments as the need for sleep overtook her.

Just as she was about to drift off she heard her husband offer one final word for the evening. Knowing this was likely coming eventually she thought she had prepared her heart earlier for such an onslaught, but was not even close to prepared for this.

No demands, no requests, not even a pleading gesture. Only his presence and just now his words.

"My lily of the valley, I love you Caterina, now and forever."

Squeezing her eyes even further at the sentiment she began to count backwards from twenty.

She would not give in, she would not.

She would not cry, and she would not give in if it was the last act she performed with her beating heart still in tact.

She refused.


	14. The Calm Before the Storm

Disclaimer: I neither own Reign, nor profit from this story.

Coming to consciousness slowly Catherine gave her body a chance to awaken before, opening her eyes. When she finally did, taking in the morning dawn and…Henry.

He was propped up on one elbow, staring at her.

Blinking a few times to fully clear her eyes and give herself a moment to collect her thoughts, Catherine focused on her husband to try and discern what he was thinking.

She didn't have to wait long as he leaned forward and planted a kiss full on her lips.

Ahhhh, so he planned on holding her to the promise that she had yet again broken last night. Well she she supposed she had put this off long enough. He had indeed not been nearly as uncaring as when this bout of interest had begun and had over the past several weeks taken a bit more care in paying her…them some attention, as short a time as she was certain it would ultimately last.

Conceding to his unspoken request she had just started to respond when he pulled back and said plainly, "Good morning Catherine."

This time blinking in surprise, Catherine answered in kind.

Henry chuckled gently at the rare appearance of confusion on his wife's face.

"I was sincere in my concern and in my assurances that first night. Though I look forward to reuniting with you in every way, I have no intention of forcing you into something when you are emotionally compromised."

Once hand coming up to cup her cheek and run his thumb along the smooth skin he continued, "I never forced you to to fulfill your duty to me in this way Catherine even on our wedding night, and I have no intention of starting now. I have always loved you, I guess I just…"

But his speech was interrupted by her finger on his lips. "Henry you need to make me no promises, nor flatter me with platitudes or pleasantries."

Sighing as she gazed into his eyes and tried to convince him of her position without hurting him further. "This has been a marriage of convenience for so long, Henry you don't need to put all this effort in on my behalf. You are the King, and I your Queen, and that is enough."

Sighing as she moved her hand along his cheek to mirror his own. Leaning up and drawing him downward she slowly left a peck on his lips before sliding out of the bed.

He watched her walk away and flopped back onto her mattress for just a moment longer.

He could already smell the salts she used for her bath and earlier noticed several of her ladies coming in and out, presumably preparing her morning necessities so that she could put on her long perfected facade as Queen.

It was something that she gradually donned in their early year but he never noticed until she was so well practiced that she even began using it on him, and more and more frequently at that.

Catherine's nickname as Madame La Serpente was something that she had truly earned, but not without good reason or the cost that went with it.

She was hated by many, in her country of birth and here. Considered a foreigner, a commoner who reached far beyond her station, a usurper, but it was not any of these things that were the cause of the hatred. It was the fact that she was so formidable, so powerful, especially as a woman. Rarely openly, and never with the blunt force that he wielded except in the odd time or two they had been a united front, but powerful all the same.

Returning from her bath dressed only in a robe and with her hair hair pinned up haphazardly Henry decided that if he could he would love to just freeze this moment and remain here forever.

Catherine looked so young, so relaxed and almost carefree as she walked over to her wardrobe to decide on her attire for the day.

He knew that with no upcoming events to host and no other pressing problems that Catherine likely had time yet before she needed to be anywhere. Rising at this hour was a practice borne out of preference and not necessity so that she could take her time in preparing for the day.

She had explained that once not long after they had been married and were still spending the night together.

One morning she had awoken before him and managed to escape his grasp without him even stirring from his slumber. Already halfway through her routine before he even awoke he sleepily whined about her rising so early.

As the commoner wife of the second son in the line of succession there literally was nothing she was required to do except to produce heirs, which she was quite clearly not planning on doing that morning.

Saying as much from his place in her bed she explained to him how the layers that she was required to put on in preparing for the day could be stifling and so by taking time to prepare herself for them and then applying them carefully the burden became just a little less.

Having apparently decided on what she would wear Catherine called one of her ladies over to assemble the ensemble for the day while she moved over to her vanity to continue her morning ritual. Just a little more awake than before, Henry smiled as his wife's true and natural colors began to shine through.

Suddenly reminded of another ritual they had developed when they were young he smiled and tossed the covers off, donning his dressing gown and walking over to where his wife now sat. It was not unlike what he had done for her just a few weeks ago, except that the focus this time was less on freeing her hair form the pins that held it in place and more on attending to her in caring an intimate way.

Seeing his movement in the mirror Catherine looked up at him with one eyebrow quirked, but otherwise remained silent.

Walking up behind her he began to remove the few pins that remained so that he would have free access to her amber curls, laying them neatly on her vanity as he went.

Narrowing her eyes at him Catherine still made no moves of protest but did inquire in a particular suspicious voice. "Henry what are you doing? If you're not careful it will take three times as long for me to actually get ready for the day as I will have to go and wash my hair because you will have pulled it all apart and made a mess of it."

Had it truly been that long?

He used to love doing this for her, and she seemed to enjoy it herself, at least most of the time.

"Don't worry Catherine I will be careful. I may be out of practice at removing your pins and caring for you in this way, but it has not been so long that I have forgotten everything."

"But if you aren't careful…"

"You can always pull it into one of those full buns that I love so much, or out it up in braids. Those always took care of any carelessness on my part."

Still pouting and trying to protest despite what Henry was doing to her, Catherine gave up and began to rearrange her vanity instead. She so badly wanted to pick her cuticles, but knew that Henry would recognize the habit and scold her for it.

She just didn't understand.

Why was he taking such care with her? She had already excused him from any such necessities regarding this deal they had, though in the end it had more to do with protecting her own heart than in alleviating him of a burden.

After all it was society's opinion that it was the wife that was beholden to a husband and not the other way around.

Just this, remembering how he used to care for her, attending to her in such a way that made her hope, even if only in such a small way. It would only lead to her falling apart all the more when he eventually abandoned her again.

Oh, but this did feel good.

Closing her eyes for just a moment she allowed herself to relax just a little farther into what he was doing, and accept his offering.

She would just have to work harder to reinforce her walls later.

-/-/-/-

She knew that the lord's overall did not appreciate what they so often called her 'meddling' but this was far too much, even for one of them.

Based on what her ladies were able to uncover, it was that one last tiresome lord that would not leave her alone around the time when Charles fell that seemed to be responsible for the notes and the suggested threats of plague. All false of course, but that was beside the point.

As it happens he hadn't properly silenced the servants he had paid to carry out his plans and it was put together so hastily that several other key details in covering his methods remained unattended to. That in addition to the speed in which he had to put such a plot together thanks to her son's misadventure made the plan rather simple to uncover. Marching briskly towards the throne room where Henry was hosting several of the lords she planned to call him out on it and present the proof that she had.

An injustice like this could be easily enough looked over if Henry or the other lords were in an inopportune mood so at the very least she planned to embarrass him as a way of making a point.

Striding confidently through the doors she was about to announce her evidence to all that were near enough to hear it when she was stopped dead in her tracks.

To her utter surprise, kneeling down in the middle of the throne room with guards on either side was the Noble she was intent of confronting.

"Ahhhh, Catherine…I'm glad you have joined us. I have a present for you."

Apparently Henry had other plans.

Blinking and taking in the scene before her for just a moment longer Catherine found herself at a loss for words.

How had he…what did he…

"I noticed earlier that your ladies seemed to be on some sort of mission and inquired. They informed me of their task and I asked that they report whatever conclusion they came to to me first. Now I am certain that such a valuable and honored subject of the kingdom did not intend to cause such distress for his Queen and my wife and so he has been given the option to apologize now and be allowed free, with your blessing of course my Queen.

Catherine could barely contain the smile that threatened to blossom on her face so instead she turned it into a one sided smirk and turned ever so carefully to face the accused.

Some days her husband never ceased to surprise her.

After meeting her gaze unyieldingly for just a moment he mumbled his apology decidedly not meeting her gaze. Henry was clearly not satisfied with this as he indicated for one of the guards to remind him of his place and very precarious position.

A swift kick to the abdomen communicated his message perfectly and when the Noble was again able to rise into there vertical he grudgingly but far more convincingly apologized for his actions. Walking over to him slowly Catherine continued to eye him before looking away and flicking her hand toward the guards.

"Majesty?" inquired the other guard as her motion was distinctive but not quite clear.

"Remove his hat and his ornaments. The gems are to be divided among my ladies who discovered his ill will towards me and he is to be banned from court business for a week's time. If he for some reason finds that he needs to enter these hallowed halls he should make the request to me personally."

Continuing in her way toward the throne, she walked up the steps with such poise that one might never have guessed that anything untoward had even happened. Turning abruptly and flicking her chin at an angle that suggested that any additional petitioners should think twice about approaching, she decided that she would discuss this with Henry later.

What she would discuss was still in question, she did not like being beholden to him, even for something as simple as this, although in all other ways it was sweet.

Why did this have to be so complicated?


	15. Choosing to Dance amidst the Storm

Disclaimer: I neither own Reign, nor profit from this story.

Henry carried on like this for several weeks.

Demanding nothing, but privately giving frequently, and publicly acting more like a jovial companion and less like the husband-King she had come to expect.

Come evening he would continue to join her in her bed but still made no move to further their physical relationship aside from kisses that were usually sweet, though sometimes passionate.

The man certainly knew how to kiss and if she allowed herself she might even be persuaded by that alone.

One morning he was apparently leaning more on the side of passion and this time allowed his hands to wander too. Without thinking she began to respond to him and the little voice in her mind that had been begging to be let free for weeks began getting louder and louder.

Could it be this simple?

Could she simply let go, was it even possible?

"Henry…" she managed to get just one word out amidst his caresses.

"Henry," this time a little stronger, though as of yet to no avail. The man seemed firmly committed to whatever mission he had set himself on, though he had not moved forward in his current trajectory as he normally would have.

Henry was nothing if not direct, but up until now he had kept his usual enthusiasm in check. Even this very moment Catherine knew that he was holding back.

"Henry please," she tried once more.

His lips had moved on to…other pursuits and so her words were no longer hindered by his, but the puppy dog look he gave he, looking up from where he now rested a little farther down on her torso than where he had started.

"Yes my love, is this too much for you? I would have stopped earlier, but you seemed to be enjoying yourself. We can however stop if that is your wish."

'Curse this man,' she thought. He knew that she had always enjoyed this side of being a married woman, and exactly how to encourage her in such pursuits.

"Henry, really I…"

But he didn't even let her finish.

"Of course my love," he answered leaning up to leave a final chaste kiss on her lips. Extraditing himself from the mess of limbs and sheets he had managed to tangle them in he rose to leave Catherine and her bed.

"How long?" Catherine asked, pleading clearly evident in her voice.

"How long what my love?" Henry asked in answer to her particularly vague question.

"How much longer will you remain Henry? How much longer until you tire of me again and I am returned to my state of solitude?"

The pain in her voice nearly squeezed the breath out of him.

He knew it wasn't an unreasonable question. If there was once constant in their marriage besides her whit and long memory, it was his near constant infidelity.

He wasn't even sure he could be her husband faithfully, he had just never been willing to admit it before.

"I don't know."

Turning her face from him, she already felt the knife begin to slice through her.

And this was why, she reminded herself, she had been holding back.

"I don't know, because I don't know how to stop myself, or even if I can. I have indulged in my privilege as King for so long, I don't know if I even know how to be any different."

"Well at least you're being honest."

"Catherine I…"

"Henry, please just let us get this over with. You will be satisfied and I can begin to return to my normal life, our normal lives. Together but apart."

This time her words were like daggers in his chest.

The pain that he caused had become her normal. He knew it, in the deepest darkest parts of his mind he knew that he was the cause of much of her suffering in recent years.

He never wanted this.

Never wanted to become the source of pain for his sweet Italian bride.

When they were both young, they had shared such high hopes for their union. Her French was still not quite refined in those days and so most of their conversations were frequently lightened by mistakes she made while tying to convey her thoughts and ideas.

It all seemed to easy then. So easy and so without consequence.

Now they both lived in a world of consequences, many of which they brought directly onto themselves.

Could they ever go back?

Feeling frustrated, and not knowing what else he could do he turned to face her directly and finally did what he probably should have done a while ago.

"Catherine what can I do?"

Smiling wistfully at his actually asking her advice she answered honestly.

"Henry I don't know. Some things that are broken can never be fixed, never be unbroken, never be whole again."

Nodding his head in temporary acceptance Henry turned to leave. It would appear that for the moment they were both standstill, perhaps even a loss. In the mean time he could see no benefit to standing in the middle of her room and contemplating such depressing thoughts.

As she watched him walk away, Catherine felt torn. Glad that this charade seemed to finally be over she was equally as heartbroken at the inevitability of her marriage that had once again been lain out clearly for them both to see. 'They were never meant to be' was what kept echoing in her mind. The mantra dutifully holding together what little sanity she still had left in tact.

Shaking her head and moving to begin getting ready for the day, she prayed fleetingly that this would finally be the end to his whole thing.

She could at least hope for that.

-/-/-/-

Later that day Catherine returned to her rooms, or at least what should have been her rooms, but it seemed that someone had taken it upon themselves to order almost all of her belongings removed.

The only thing that remained was a single side table which currently had a note perched on its smooth surface.

Walking over with quite an agitated cadence in her step she grabbed the note off the furniture hurriedly and ripped open the seal.

Of course it was Henry, no one else would have had the audacity to do such a thing.

Oh he would pay for this.

When she was finally calm enough to actually read the words her eyes devoured them so quickly that she nearly missed the entire contents of the note.

'Catherine,

After this morning's conversation I could think of only one solution and that is return to what once was. To when we were carefree and happy, when we were young.

I know that you no longer believe in fairytales, but I remember a time when our love was nothing but. Upon reading this you are cordially invited to join me in the place where our fairytale first began.

I am sure you are at this moment quite angry with me, but I bid you give me this one last chance, I believe it will be worth the effort.

Your forever love,

Prince Henry'

'Hah!' she thought, 'so he thinks he can fix this by pretending to turn back the hands of time? He must be an even greater fool than I realized.'

Deciding that she wanted this whole to do to be over Catherine hastily made her way out of her rooms and down to a corridor she had not visited in many years. It was the location of their wedding suite, and her living quarters for the first three years of their marriage.

Still running on the anger that her bare rooms had sparked and which Henry's forwardness had only further enraged Catherine burst through several door into the room that was once her bedroom.

It was as if she'd walked through a portal in time.

Everything was just as it was all those years ago. Henry must have had her ladies dig through years of storage to find each and every piece as much of them had been in disuse for a very long time.

Some of the details were obscured as evening had already begin to fall and Henry had apparently ordered the smallest of candles to be placed all over the room casting much of it into shadow.

Honestly, the audacity of the man.

"If I cannot fix what has been broken, perhaps we can simply start again."

Henry's voice came from behind her, sounding equal parts hopeful and sure as he approached her slowly.

"You are the love of my life Catherine, and I am not willing to give up on you so easily."

Shaking her head and turning to face him she answered, not really caring what he thought except that he might think this plan of his to be more effort than they…than she was worth.

Perhaps the salvation of what they were, or even of her pitiful soul, might have been worth something many years ago. But now? After all this time, the bitterness and the anger?

No this was one ghost best left undisturbed.

Unfortunately Henry had apparently decided to try and wake the beast, and she needed to stop him.

Now.

Deciding on her course of action she continued.

"I have never known you to be such a stupid fool Henry until now."

"Perhaps I am Cara," he answered, "but I find the prospect of simply letting you go to be equally as stupid, and so I am at least choosing to try."

"To try? Henry we have tried…several times! You may be willing to play the fool, but I am not." she retorted. She was all fire and surety on the outside, but inside she could finally feel what she had been longing for so long.

Nothing.

It was wonderful, it was all she had hoped for.

And now that it had finally happened, it was terrifying.

Gasping for breath she turned away from him and tried to search for something, anything to hold onto. Anger, loathing, even a spec of sadness.

Nothing.

Suddenly his hands were on her shoulders. Nothing more, nothing less. Just the firm steady touch of his large warm hands.

"You my love are worth it."

Her own self recrimination spoken audibly were almost too much. Shaking her head she tried once again to keep the tears at bay.

She could not do this.

"Henry please I…"

But before she could finish he had turned her around and captured her lips with his. Hands moving to hold her behind her shoulders and around her waist he held her there in suspension for a moment.

A moment in time.

Then all of a sudden he bent down and picked her up under her knees. Now listlessly lost in her own mind and the sensations he was evoking she melted into his advance taking hold of his touch as the only thing now concretely linking her to reality. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes but stubbornly refused to fall. He carried her to the bed, slowly, carefully. Eventually laid her down ever so gently, never breaking contact once.

This time he simply continued in his pursuit though he would've stopped in a moment if she had asked.

The lover of France was for tonight hers alone.

-/-/-/-

Laying in his arms some time later Catherine was still uncertain and remained distant.

As much as she desired her husband, she was certain this was not what she needed to be convinced that this was a good idea.

Then again perhaps she never would.

But as Henry turned her chin to face him she found it hard to even consider rebuilding the walls that metaphorically lay broken at their feet.

He had taken them down a block at a time without her noticing.

Now searching his face she could see only hope and sincerity in his eyes. Now that was new.

Perhaps she could do this, or at least allow him to.

He was probably right, that there was nothing he could ever say to convince her.

Leaning in to kiss her on the lips, the contact barely lasted a moment before he pulled back and spoke gently, "to new beginnings."

As he cradled her in his hold she found that she had nothing to say.

Then again, perhaps the time for words were past. Perhaps it was time to simply trust.

As Catherine tried to allow her mind to relax into slumber she found that she simply did not have the strength to fight this, to fight Henry.

Long ago she had come to the conclusion that something in the whirlwind that was her life would eventually have to give, but never would she ever have thought that this would be that thing. To let go of her own strength and be held by whatever forces lay beyond.

In this particular case it was to be wooed once again by her husband.

If she had told her younger self that this would even be happening she never would have believed it. But here she was, a middle aged married woman scared so deeply by the man sleeping next to her that she never thought she could return from her seemingly eternal state of anger and bitterness.

Never until now.

Not that she felt any degree of real affection for this arrogant man, but she could honestly say that at least in this moment, she felt neither anger nor bitterness.

It was astonishing, but true.

Perhaps that was a bit of an overstatement to suggest that all of her affection was long deceased. In her own way she had never stopped loving him and she still cared for him as her husband.

Some days he just made it so very difficult.

Then again perhaps even she could be redeemed. To learn and to live.

To try to love just one last time.


End file.
